Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

Month: March, 2019

Eye Hate Computers

“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?

3:04am (If My Watch Is Right)

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

Sue Blair

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


“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

The 26th Anniversary of My Mother’s Death

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??

Josephine Elizabeth Meadow Walden January 2 1899 — December 23 1979

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



9:40 PM

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


1 AM

EYE still have pieces

of Me


–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

2 AM


Eye think since You

said You read M(Eye) Poems

Eye Think

We will start

writing –2–

each other

2:20 AM

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


and You were delayed