Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

BLACK LIGHT

The Tomato-coloured Couch 6:41pm

I’m not trapped by Black

— that’s Black Jesus —

I’ve thrown away all

My Black Clothes

& I’m in Grey now

I still write in books with Black Covers

& The Black Ink comes leaking through

making Me sit up straight

legs crossed

Right Hand

adroitly holding

My Onyx Pen

tipped in Silver

MRS BLAIR AT HOME

The Tomato-coloured Couch 5:22pm

Mrs Blair sits in Her Hawk Living Room

furnished sedately but for

a staircase painted red —

She ponders the significance

of Humanity

and wonders if the music on Coffee House

is telling Her things

She should pay attention to

–

seltzer sits fizzing in Her LIFE Glass

on the glass coffee table

and She’s about to eat

some leftover pasta salad

before contemplating

Her next

3 seconds

MRS BLAIR GOES TO MARKET

The Tomato-coloured Couch 3:15pm

Dr Blair’s Wife dressed in grey slacks

dark grey sweater with gold zipper

rings upon Her Fingers

LL Bean upon Her Toes

drove Her nearly new Ford Fusion

to The Little Coastal Store

on Cape Island

to buy six packs of cat treats

for seven cats

two pork chops

two lesser cuts of red meat

to listen to Fatboy Slim’s

Praise You

on the way

Home

LUMINOSITY

The Hawk Living Room 1:53pm

Dressed in My Robe

of Luminous Silver

with My Little Raspberry Slippers

I am The Lady Of Immense Leisure

and This High Living Room

where I reside in The Sun

is My New Rooftop

CONJUNCTION

The Tomato-coloured Couch 5:50pm

I’m having a flash-back

back to when I was in

My Mother’s Womb — I knew then

I’d be a stocky blond

in red sneakers & a white gym suit

on The Roof of # 5 World Trade Center

& grow up to marry well

twice-over —

I knew then I would harbour

within the duration of My Existence

a pulling enticement

which when met

would give birth

to the ultimate contraction

between

young & old

&

I would live & die

in

one

moment

SAFETY

The Hawk Kitchen 2:59pm

an immobilized fly

knows no secrets

adhering, somehow, to the outside

of My Living Room Window

— I thought He was a spy —

when I wanted to write

“What Do I Most

Want To Say –“

and for Whom?

“For My Self”

— I saw He had died —

NIGHTFALL

January 30th The Hawk Window Seat 5:56pm

From My Bedroom Window

The Sky View to The North West

affords, at nightfall,

a scape of salmon-coloured clouds

low to The Cape

glowing above the stalky spruce

with The Cape Light shining

flashing, emitted

from The Luminous South

PORTRAIT OF AN EDGE OF SKY

January 30th The Hawk TV Room 4:30pm

The Space between My Ex Husband’s favourite shed

& a distant house

lays out the edge of Sky meeting Cape

with grey fuzziness of flurries

from a low lying bank of cloud

soaking into gold

against the dark swath

of dimming shore line

THE FLIGHT

January 30th The Hawk Kitchen 2:30pm

I have seen The Hawk

again —

have I written of Him before?

flying in His full stateliness

outside My Kitchen Window

from The Scrub Spruce down

to The Shore

and back

again

FUTURE WOMAN

January 30th, The Tomato-coloured Couch 1:28pm

I Am A Woman

For Whom Future Is Now, Now

Past Now Is Now Dredged