If I had a man
I could have a Barbeque
If I had a man
I could have an extra shelf
in my linen closet
I could have the baseboard
replaced
in my Ex’s old library
and if I had a man
I would have a pickup truck
On the night
Eye painted M(eye) Bomb
the wind picked up
and Eye made for the deck
where M(eye) salvaged pieces lay
laminated together
on a glass table top —
just as Eye approached
M(eye) kitchen door
a gust had the nerve
to lift M(eye) work
and sent it flying
down to Destruction
Possibility
of The Devil proffered but
fiercely rejected
By Timely Construction
There Exists
One Room
in M(eye) House
for The Undernourished
The Devastated
The Sublime —
held in port
for The Outcome
of Disaster
and Love
Eye went to sleep
with the sound of peepers
and when I woke
the morning’s keepers
sweetly tweeted through
the fog —
For All Existance
Eye Thanked God
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
I sat and sat
to catch The Rise
fulfilling My Daily View
Eye turned to let a cat
inside
and beheld
My Sun-struck Pew
Three little roof lines
laced along the trees
silhouetted against the seas
adjacent to the skies —
I love to look out
this way to the Eastward
view of My Own —
I wake up here every day
when the dawn presents
Itself to Home
The Kiss of Death
Is on his head
And who has placed it there?
A needle pokes
Through his clay locks
To slay his silver hair —
He says to all who dare
To hear
“She is mad l’m afraid –”
To me he says
“No you are fine
And will always be
My Dear”
This morning’s line
of stupendous spark
was cast behind
the glittering arc
of a lobster man
tending his float
and stringing out
a tail to quote:
“dipping stars”
along his mark
and all around
His Glorious Boat
Joanna Gilman Hyde 