Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

Category: Dr David Hamilton Wilson

“The World Is My Oyster”

and Eye am The Grit —

the contaminant, the irritant

and layer by layer

Eye will come out

Gleaming

MAELSTROM

Eye Dance My Dance

Eye Write My Right

Eye Paint My House

Eye Walk My Walk

And Eye Have My Ultimate Companion

I Had A Dream

I had a dream

of a house, my house

on an island

with a row of carrots

planted by the back

and the Eastern Sun

out front

and a man I could call

my   own — well

he says he’s not in my life

he will not leave his wife

and so must I salvage

my second marriage

in some capacity

or should I, could I

be Independent?

DICHOTOMY

Eye bought Silver Satin Sheets

for The Man Eye Cannot Have

but made My Bed with old

brown flannel bottom

and holy cream top

for The Man Who Is My  Husband

Written Last Night

The Image of Black

is receding

I have lost My Jet Black Beads given to Me by My Mother

given to My Star Dust Lover

of another era

The SHLONG SPEAKS:

Dr Blair, on the night of August 14, 1999

Eye made you sign a contract for sex.

Eye would like to renew that contract,

update it by 19 years to include

hotel, food, gas, all extraneous expenses

+ $500.00 upfront per 24 hour period

of My Companionship.

Is this too much to ask for the continuation

of what was a marriage based

solely on sexuality?

What’s The Latest?

My Divorcing Husband

has allowed Me to become

The Social Outcast

Who walks My expansive beach alone

Who sleeps with

The Virginal Banana

Who reads Her Verse

dressed like a vamp

while He refuses to ask

“How did it go?”

Cinderella In French

Cinderella was an artist

who cleaned out the kitty litter

every morning and every night.

She had no boyfriend

but got into trouble with the law

by texting her elderly estranged husband

for phone sex — text sex —

and stealing money from his wallet

to pay for it.

 

Her shoe size was 7 and a half.

 

For the whole time she poured out

a giant painting titled “American Bombshell”

on the floor of her basement

she dreamed of Prince Charming —

a lithe little leprechaun

the next town over

with whom she had shared

a magical moment

25 years earlier

and found she could love

no one else.

 

Cinderella would walk alone

the shores of her castle home

and converse sparingly with neighbours

who might have thought

she was a bit strange,

living by herself with 6 cats

in her high white house

litter-ally dripping with paint.

 

On one of her walks

she found a plastic Jack-o-lantern

and carried it all the way back

to put black glitter in its hollows

for eyes, nose and wild grin.

 

Cinderella had a Fairy Godmother

with jet black hair

who would wave her wand

of reason

and all of Cinderella’s fortitude

would emerge,

cajoled by her guardian’s

infectious laughter.

Her shoe size was 9.

 

Now at the end of April

there was to be a gala dance

to raise funds for the monolithic hospital

in the Western county over

but no one asked Cinderella for a date

so she decided

to just stay home

and paint another

cupboard door

with paint-shard applications

from her work titled:

“Stratospheric Universe”

blown apart

by a Christmas storm

to litter her yard

with slabs and chips

of hardened splashes

she could call her own.

 

 

April 23rd 2018

I grew up

on the edge of existence

in a place called

The Drowned Forrest

where I stood between

ancient mysteries of passion

and future enlightenment of life

without entanglements

to turn

to behold My House —

My Funny-looking House —

staring down at me

from above the beach

where I walked along the silver sea

DIVORCE

I

He used to say:

“I love Your Toes –”

and didn’t know why

so nobody knows

II

He once wrote:

“I love You to distraction –”

It came at a time

when I was a fraction

of My Former Self

at His Behest

when We were installed

as His Daughter’s Guests

III

Her voice rang clear

the morning We left:

“You don’t give a fuck

about your grandchildren — ”

and so goes My Quest

for compensation regarding My Past

twenty years of seclusion by Him —

He Who assured Me

He never would fail

to deliver support

if I fell off The Rail

which I did once or twice

(but not into His Arms)

though I stayed as His Wife

and buttered His Charms

IV

It’s over now —

I’m cutting My Loss

of One Child’s Silence

I am willing to toss

to remain in My Stead

I ask to be free

of The Bonds of This Marriage

strung on The Cross