put on Your Tattoo Sweater, Black
fix Yourself an Ice Coffee
–a tall one–
sit on Your Back Deck
with the dishwasher going
& eggplant parmigiana in the oven
Open Your Journal
Aim Your Silver Pen
write
between
his puny
eyes
Super Store, Yarmouth, Nova Scotia
From Super Store Bathroom Stall
to a toddler:
“Yes, We bought lots —
for Josie, Mom & Dad —
so We won’t run out”
–
By The Dressing Room
beyond open cartons from China & Cambodia
to a little girl showing off Her Dress:
“Yes, that’s a beautiful dress —
hold onto Your Balloon!”
–
On The Deck of Rudder’s:
3 burly fishermen
w/ 2 skinny Japanese fish buyers
& One Gull
Who landed on a table
behind Eliza —
My Seventeen-year-old Daughter
Who rode to Yarmouth
with the latest Vogue
open on Her Lap
–
I came home with a Solid Gold
floor mat
for My Kitchen
I Am Goldy Locks
eating @ My Glass Table
eating bananas & cereal
before donning My Glass Slippers
to trip about to find My Prince
(He’s Around Here Somewhere)
& I Won’t Grow Up
or If I Grow Up
I Have The Option
of reclining, ready
In My Glass Coffin
built by 7 Dwarves (Humours)
3 Bears (Instinct)
& 1 Fairy God Mother
(Atheist In Disguise)
The Big Bang Theory
is One Big Sneeze
— if It ever happened —
& here We are
looking for One Big Tissue
& chanting
“God Bless You!”
It’s The Aliens
Who Define Us
as Humans
& It Is Humans
Who Define Us
as God
I Rub My Eyes
I Am The Child
no longer fettered by toys
I had no favourites
as I do Now:
My Silver Pen
My Journals
They are My Tools
–
I threw a dolly
with a pin in her stomach
into a closet
and scratched out The Faces
of female dolls
in a print above My Bed–
leaving the Boy Clown alone
He Was My Friend
–
I use the trappings of fashion Now
to parade My Self around
to say I Am Here
This Is Where
I Belong
and I Can See
You
Through Adult Eyes
Joanna Gilman Hyde 