The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 5:00pm
I grip My Glass
My Life Glass
pushing It hard against
My Ice Dispenser
filling It with frozen crescents
I carry My Frosted Glass
to the sink faucet
filling It with Water
I drink The Essence
of Life
&
Live
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 3:47pm
My Pickled Husband
has just ordered Me
a bulletproof vest
off the internet —
I can go anywhere
now
I am ready
& set
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 2:22pm
Would I get back
My Exuberance
if I donned My Black Oprah Dress
& loaded up My Wrists with Silver?
Would I tramp around
the house
belting out declarations — some
original — some not
to My Captive Audience of One:
My Despairing Husband
Would I feel the heady height
of My loquacious
Self?
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 1:25pm
With My Right Fist
I will pummel The Truth
of Our Existence
into The Minds
& Hearts
of Men, Women, Children
until They all decide
together
to see
the diabolical workings
of Our History
pounded into Our Present —
laid out to jump
into Our Future
of The Sublime
The Hawk Queen Bed 11:00am
I spoke with sordid gusto
I slobbered
though clearly I chided
My Docile Husband —
“What do We CELEBRATE
on this Planet?!
What do We CELEBRATE?
We CELEBRATE
S — E — X
That’s why We’re here!!”
“CARROTS ARE PENISES
& PUMPKINS ARE CUNTS”
Note:
I go padding down the hall
every morning
in My Cranberry Slippers
to serve My Husband
His Oatmeal & Raisins
The Hawk Queen Bed 7:40pm
“Wait A Minute”
That Curious Phrase:
how often do We use It
without considering
Its True Meaning?
The Hawk Queen Bed 7:40pm
“Wait A Minute”
That Curious Phrase:
how often do We use It
without considering
Its True Meaning?
The Hawk Dining Room 6:49pm
Like the flocks of tiny birds
We watched this morning —
there has to be
a Collective Shift —
a Collective Curve
& Undulation
of Our Global —
No — Universal
Perception
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 8:27am
I was Baptized once
in The Jordan River
& wore a cross of Silver
I flung My Cross
across a room
& declared My God
to be My Own
The Hawk Outpost 8:15pm
EYE
have fake EYE lashes
&
EYE
am That Woman
Who hammered Her Right Fist
against a steel door
one night until Her Watch Band
popped —
Yes, I am That Woman
Who sat in a Lotus Position
on a mattress
on a floor
in the dimly lit
“Therapeutic Quiet Room”
while a female psychiatrist
from India
popped Her Head
through
the door
Joanna Gilman Hyde 