My Father’s Birthday
September 19th, 2017
Eye am waiting for my agent
To call —
I pay him $150.00 an hour
American
He’s new —
Maybe I should
Marry him
September 19th, 2017
Eye am waiting for my agent
To call —
I pay him $150.00 an hour
American
He’s new —
Maybe I should
Marry him
My Bedroom 5:05pm
Eye come from The Age
Of Pharoahs
Dressed in Gold —
Golden mesh
Snagged @ The Thought
Of M(eye) incessant
Value
My Bedroom 4:00pm
Eye have toppled the WTC
Single-handedly
With my last application
Of black
Shining within the singularity
Of Stratospheric
Universe
The Hawk Corner Room 1:11 am
Light on light
I looked
Through binoculars
At the subtle moon
Shining on my watered horizon
And slowly — ever so slowly
My first sighting
Of a lit-up cruise ship
Fell into line
Halifax, Nova Scotia
Eye saw Him
But didn’t want to
As we left our grandparents’ funeral —
Their fallen down homestead —
I saw Him —
My dearest cousin —
Attempting a measurement?
A last trusted fitting?
Of the shredded screen
On the former front door
Of My Canadian/American Childhood
The Hawk Wing Chair 12:55pm
Eye am restored now
Like an 1800’s Heritage Home
After a quarter century’s neglect
My colours are mauve and black trim
Like the velvet holding my ponytail —
I have declared My Art
Up Front and Out
Like the rainbow logo
Of the new “Pride” —
Eye am All Woman
The Hawk Corner Room 6:50am
Hello Sun are You
Going to be good to me
Today while Stratospheric Universe
Continues to dry
— all 600 square feet
Of Her?
The Tomato-coloured Couch 1:50pm
Eye have seen my first and last
Flock of goldfinches flitting
Amongst thistle-like flowering weeds
To have become my summer backyard–
Tomorrow it gets mowed
By a man I have yet to meet
In an effort to move my house
Into the rest
Of this tidy neighbourhood
The Hawk Deck 7:15am
The Sun looks like a planet
Glowing this morning
Inside a feathered cloud
Of not fog — a lateral segment of cloud
Radiating multitudinous lines of white
Along its southern reaches
The Hawk Corner Room 6:28am
Before the first glint of sun
I heard three notes
From a distant Loon —
The ancient sound of comfort
From a source I had not known
Since I was first divided
In My Mother’s womb
