TIME
Eye sat beneath
His Silver Tree
& heard a bird
I could not see —
I looked and looked
& heard some more —
then saw its yellow
fly off to Yore
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Eye sat beneath
His Silver Tree
& heard a bird
I could not see —
I looked and looked
& heard some more —
then saw its yellow
fly off to Yore
My Captive of nineteen years ago
stood bedraggled
in the night time doorway
of His dank examining room
with Arms of Dishonour
extended
Eye wear regal fakery
on My Left Ring Finger —
solid gold
on My Right.
The World will be told
why
some time soon
if the parties involved
feel like it
Eye have had My Fill
of wedding rings
& long black hairs
dislodged from corners,
bed & bath
The man is Mine —
if He is a Man —
and I cannot live
the single life
With This Ring
Eye Thee Wed
Upon My Brother’s Chain
Around My Neck
I Am Thy Slave
Women are at least
as territorial as men,
and Eye run
a tight ship.
Eye may not want to
clean & cook for My Husband:
Eye fuck legally
Eye hear the waves
from across The Guzzle
where rising
My Husband resides.
Eye will not be pushed around
by Him
or anyone else.
My presence
is
remarkable.
Joanna Gilman Hyde 