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 —
January 30th, The Tomato-coloured Couch 1:28pm
I Am A Woman
For Whom Future Is Now, Now
Past Now Is Now Dredged
The Tomato-coloured Couch 5:04pm
Every Instance of My Life
Every Moment before I was conceived
has added up to where I am
right now, in this New Moment
writing in the dusk of My Favourite Living Room
on A Piece of Land I own
on An Island where I feel welcome
in A County I have traversed
in A Province I favour
in A Country where I am proud to be A Citizen
on A Continent which identifies Me
on A Planet I Love
and will Love
until I die
The Hawk Queen Bed 10:22pm
“Hey Everybody! This is God
yes, G-O-D
One of You, All of You
here, as always, to tell Us
We have a correction to make —
in case You were wondering
I am female —
52 years old in Body
infinite in Mind:
Caucasian North American
with a psychiatric history
not permitted to carry a firearm
but I can wear a bullet-proof vest
to guard My Castle-by-the-sea
where I live with My Husband
the very popular Dr Blair
& My Daughter, the very beautiful Eliza
& seven cats —
I’m not kidding around —
on March 31st, 1993, after four days of no sleep
induced by the death of My Mother
I had The Shower Of Silver Lights
crash down on My Head —
I thought I was The Second Coming Of Christ
but I didn’t want to give Christianity
that much credit
so I simplified My Title
My Essence
into Those Three Little Letters
& no, I don’t knowingly control the weather —
it controls Me
& yes, I believe in eternity
& The Sacredness Of Human Life
OR I WOULDN’T BE HERE!!”
“It’s Time To Hear My Rallying Cry
to sort out Our Miseries
Organize
Our Desires
Our Abilities
forget Our failings
Uphold Honesty
for where has Honesty
gone?
It’s Time To Apprehend
My Leadership —
I offer up My Self
for I am One Human
Who has seen The Light
& Knows It To Be
The Light Of This World
Our Precious Little World”
The Hawk Kitchen 9:15pm
The Pink Residue
of My Husband’s Berries
& Ice Cream
lining His Dark Ceramic Bowl
poised to go into
The Emptied Dishwasher
is no longer a dirty dish
but A Modulated Receptacle
filled with One
Gigantic
Universe
The Tomato-coloured Couch 7:25pm
I have re-visited
My Dark Doorway
to remember Those same wavy
strings of Cat Hair
— and dust —
now that The Snow Particles
are gone
What’s left
but Dark Matter
composing
the majority of material
making up The Scape
of Last Night’s Stars?
The Hawk West Desk Window 1:20pm
What orchestrates The Music
of The Universe?
What perpetuates The Orbital Spin
of Our Galactic Bodies?
Our Home Planets?
Time It cannot be
for Time is a Human Construct —
What then in Its Own Magic
raises Our Suns & Moons
guides Us through Our Days & Nights
allowing Us to Breathe?
The Tomato-coloured Couch 6:11pm
I am dripping in Diamonds
oozing Gold from every pore
radiating Silver with My widest reach
My Words carry
My Weight
When I die
I will be entombed
with
My Endless Scrawl
at
My
Feet
Joanna Gilman Hyde 