The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 4:13pm
legions of mosquitoes
have swarmed into the broken webbing
of yesterday
catching themselves, in some cases
one upon the other
still alive
& how I wonder
can their scrambling efforts be
for each other?
The Hawk Kitchen 3:40pm
Where will I go
with My Halo
solidified in the frantic spinning
of a wind-blown insect
dangling off a disheveled spider web —
to give forth
The “Wake Up”
Call?
The Hawk Queen Bed 10:06am
Oh how I want to knead
a double weave of lavender
& green —
I want so badly
to meld a shield
of diamond coloured star
in My Center
Oh how I want to paint
the emblematic Silver
of My Center
My Big Black X
so I could make a pair
to My Black Star
The Hawk Kitchen, sometime in the afternoon
I am under The Spell
of creation I have blown
the breath of Life
into the blankness
of everything
and I am The Creator
of what has
always
been
The Tomato-coloured Couch 3:40pm
I can hear Nova Scotia
in the song of the birds
on the convolutions of the wind
breezing through My Screen
Yes, I am screened in —
I live a life for God
by Her Design
I am laden
with My Perfect
Responsibility
meshing with the object
of My Deepest Wish
The Hawk En-suite Bath 9:51am
I see A Fragment
of Our Universe
emblazoned on the sink faucet
It has arrived
by spit
spraying tooth paste splatter
washed together
with the fluid
of many microbes
The Hawk Kitchen 5:15pm
I have My Purple Toes
in My Silver Sandals
I can look down
on Them & pretend
I am in The Sky
or perched in a tree
Living The Life
of an On-high
Observer
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 3:20pm
I Have A Gull
Who Knows His Place
He Sits, raw
on My Right Middle Finger
a chunk of amethyst
bought Myself
next to My Included Refinement
bought Myself
He gets thrown hunks
of out-dated bread
from My Left Hand Fingers
dead-weighted with the diamonds
of marital promise
swallowed whole
while holding His Ground
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 8:25pm
The Scrub Spruce deserve
a sketch w/ The Evening Sun
upon Their barren branches
fringed along the bottom
by a hedgerow of new bamboo
& topped above by the blue
of sea and sky
I’ve grown to love
The Scrub Spruce
to call It My Own
as It surrounds My Picture
— makes It —
out My Kitchen Window
The Hawk Living Room 7:30pm
I once wore Red Underwear
for My Whole Life
& It got Me Nowhere
except to where I am
on a tomato-coloured love seat
staring at My Abortion
