Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

PRO-FUSION

The Hawk Queen Bed 10:45pm

God Bashed Me Over The Head

With The Shower Of Silver Lights

So That I Would Never Ever

Forget Him/Her/It/Them

ME!

GALACTIC DAZZLE

The Hawk Corner Room 11:15am

Sitting in My Flannel Pyjamas

I can watch a Liquid Galaxy

glittering, sparkling, stretched long out

over The Atlantic

with a Mass of Stars as Its Center

and Diamond Iridescence out

over Its thinning Edges

FOR L M

The Hawk West Desk Window 3:50pm

The World No Longer Waits

For Me

I Am Here

Bearing Us On

My Broadened Shoulders

My Booted Feet

Braced Against Frozen Ground

As I Carry Every Loose

Timber To The Pile

Of Lumber Not For Burning

But For Building

SOMETHING EVENTFUL IS ALWAYS HAPPENING*

The Tomato-coloured Couch 6:19pm

In Half An Hour

My Slow-cooker Will Display

The Number 22:22

& I Won’t Miss It

I’ll Stand In My Kitchen

@ 22:23 & Watch It Turn Down One Minute

To My Favourite Sequence

Of Brain-motivating

Heart-moving

Symbolic Renderings

–

The Hawk Kitchen 6:49

I Missed It —

*Potterfan97

PRETEND THIS IS WRITTEN ON GOLD EMBOSSED TIFFANY STATIONARY

The Tomato-coloured Recliner 4:30pm

Dear Bill N Lacy:

–

You know why I handed you all those pathetic love letters while I was a student at Cooper Union and you were President?  I was youthfully in lust with you, no matter what the letters said, and you were correct never to have replied.

–

After I graduated, I gave you hand-knitted socks (not knitted by me) with a note for cold feet, and months later you said, “I still have those socks –”

–

I said, “Now you don’t need them –”  

–

“Why?” you suddenly asked, and I sang out, “Because Now It’s Spring!”

–

(I was about to ask my children’s father to marry me.)

–

Two husbands later I am keeping up my record — this time for over twenty years — and the object of my attentions is a small leprechaun from Scotland with whom (I’ve told myself) I would travel to outer space.

–

I hope this letter finds you well.

–

Yours truly,

–

Joanna

LATE WINTER

The Hawk Kitchen 6:13pm

The Twigs Of The Scraggly Apple

Feel Their Way Up Toward The Eastern Blush

Of Sunset To My Back

The Top Branch Reaches A Cloud

— Fully Grey —

And Delineates My Future Comfort

In All Its Windy

Shivers

DISROBED

The Hawk Corner Room 10:22am

I Stood Naked

— as My Shower heated —

before The Corner Room Window

to lay My Eyes

upon The Sea

glistening Silver

in lateral streaks

to Cleanse Me

of My Jaded Spirit

SLOW COOKER

The Tomato-coloured Couch 7:20pm

If I Had Any Doubt

As To The Complexities

And Future Order

Of My Life

As I Foresee It

I Have Not A Shred Now

As I Have Been

Transfixed

By The Glowing Blue 22

On My Kitchen Counter

Stew Pot

FROM MY NAP

The Hawk Queen Bed 2:22pm

This Is Nova Scotia

Land O’ M’ Dreams

Where Anything Can Happen

Sea Salt Air Calls Me

Through The Crack In My Window

I Rise To Its Undulating Voice

Determined To Listen

BACKDROP

The Hawk Queen Bed 10:22am

This Morning I Was Accompanied

By Luminous Silver From The Ocean

While I Made Our Second Cups Of Coffee

& Unloaded The Dishwasher