“They’re gonna take out all The Clocks
in school — The Kids Don’t Know How To Tell Time”
The Computer, for all Its convenience
ruined My Marriage —
or was it really
The Man in Front of It?
David — whenever I look up
Now — Eye see Orion —
He’s A Man, A Soldier
like You — and There He Is
giving Me The OK
with His Star-patterned Presence —
I will go to Him
One Day (or Night)
In Your Company
Tall and Strawberry Blonde
She was born in New Zealand
on September 23rd, 1950
to a mother named Marguerite
(Whom She supposedly “didn’t want to turn into”) and
met Dr William Hunter Blair
(My Current Husband)
in The Yukon of Canada
(after a time in Figi with Her Father)
–She was Somebody’s Secretary–
They married in October
in the late 70’s
and had no children.
Sue Blair was stepmother
to the same 4
Eye have grown to appreciate
from Dr Blair’s First Marriage
and always sent birthday cards
and Christmas Presents.
His youngest daughter
She raised.
Sue Blair was known
for Her Gardens in Barrington Passage
where She grew black tulips
and planted a Butterfly Tree.
She knew the value
of Self Help Books
and donated a pile of Them
to Evelyn Goodwin’s support group
in 1994 — that was the first
I heard of Her.
She was supposedly solidly married.
When My Affair with Her Husband
developed in the summer of 1999
turning into a multi-year nightmare
of intrusion (justified) by
The Nova Scotia College of Physicians & Surgeons
Sue Blair defended Her Husband
to Her Death.
It was soon after one phone call
to Dr Blair’s house
(now referred to as The Big White Castle)
at 4:00 in the morning
from New York City
when She cried out loud and clear
“He’s My Husband!!”
that She developed Inflammatory Breast Cancer
which killed Her, back in New Zealand
in January of 2004
as I prepared The Faulty Wedding
to The Husband
I had stolen
out of misplaced desire.
She liked to walk on beaches
winter or summer
and owned an adjunct house
in Clark’s Harbour
across from The Post Office
as elegant and solid
as She appeared
to The Community She lived in.
She was An Admirable Woman
with office companions —
Her Husband’s Secretaries —
Who cried when She died.
A Song NOT
TO MASTURBATE BY:
“Bad Habit”
by Delaney Jane
I always thought of Having Sex
with My Estranged Husband
whenever I listened to This Song.
Too bad those days are over
Now & Forever
It occurs to me
@ 2:30 in the morning
Why My Husband, a Doctor
Needs a female Secretary.
He needs an O-R-G-A-N-I-Z-O-R
He’s Had Her for about 30 years.
Is He married to Her??
In The Truest Form of Marriage??
My Beautiful Gran-mama’s Face
came to Me again
in My One Dream from last night —
bright and smiling
as She looked at Me
with Her Knowing Look
and I wondered if I too
could be as lovely
when I become
“An Old Lady.”
She never wore grey
saying “Grey is for elephants”
though My Mother tried to tell Her
Grey looked good on Her —
(anything looked good on My Grandmother)
She wore instead blue and green
with Her Hair always
as I am wearing Mine
This Morning —
twisted and pinned up
and Her Lipstick was pink
(My Mother’s was orange)
All Her Letters to Us
were illustrated
using thin coloured markers —
She drew elves and mushrooms and flowers.
I have Those Letters.
(My Children haven’t seen Them yet)
I have one delicate watercolour
of a low blue bowl with three upright tulips and two daffodils
with the fourth tulip, yellow, drooping.
I have one glazed brown oval dish
kept on My Kitchen Window Sill
(for Pears soap)
signed in 1963.
Gran-mama painted
a strawberry bush on My Sewing Box
outfitted with everything I would ever need
to sew My Own Clothes.
Gran-mama painted My Doll Dresser
with holly hocks on the sides
and on top in the center one heart
surrounded by roses.
Inside the door
She painted My Red Swing
hanging from The Crab Apple Tree —
My Childhood Swing
made by My Grandfather
Who pushed Me so high
I could touch The Leaves
with My Toes.
My Beautiful Southern Grandmother,
Who taught Me to make popovers
and pot roast
put Her Credentialed* Creativity
into gardening currents, asparagus, nasturtiums and magnificent roses
and into Jordan Bay arrival dinners
of macaroni and corn bread
with home-grown vegetables.
My Beloved Grandmother
was the first and only
figure in My Life
Who exclaimed and explained
to Me
The Entrancement of Seeing
The Glitter, The Stars
playing out over
Our Dazzling Ocean’s Delight .
*Parson’s School of Design
EYE have grown
into My Self
as i eat M(Eye) Chicken Wings —
a whole tray of Them —
EYE see and feel
that Eye, I , i am My Truest
and Boy, does It feel good
EYE still have pieces
of Me
attached
–2– The Greatest Love I Have
Ever Known
and Eye will not be delivered
from M(Eye) Bird-den
until the object/subject
of M(Eye) Love
Comes Home
GEE WIZZ, David
Eye think since You
said You read M(Eye) Poems
Eye Think
We will start
writing –2–
each other
My Dearest Peak
Dr Wilson put You
in an incubator
the night You were born
probably because a nurse
gave Me a shot of something
I did not ask for
and so I could not push
properly
and You were delayed
Joanna Gilman Hyde 