Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

Tag: 9/11

IN UTERO

The Tomato-coloured Couch 6:24pm

This is No Nova Scotia

This is No Second Beer

on The Tomato-coloured Couch

before the steaks go under the broiler

This is having a distraught Husband

say nothing

because what is there to say?

He is not The Man

to Elevate My Scripture

He is not The Man

to follow along with a placard

He is not The Man

to film Me for a Youtube Channel

to travel with Me to My Speeches

He is not That Little Man

I claim to have loved

for twenty years or more

— He was the doctor who took care of Peak

in utero

— He is The Man I uttered four words to

and My World was born

SITUATED

The Hawk Living Room 5:23pm

I am situated in A House

by The Open Ocean

A House with sky lights

shooting beams across My Crow Painting

in a cathedral ceilinged Living Room

— the room I lived in before This One

was cathedral ceilinged too

& accommodated

The Shower of Silver Lights

— but I wasn’t going to get into that —

I was going to write

about My Open Window

next to My Tomato-coloured Couch

where I lie here

to take naps

& not to be preoccupied

by saintly hallucinations

ANNIVERSARY

The Hawk Kitchen 9:05am

I’m cashing in on 9/11

checking My 1,630 Views

on Self Organizing Galaxy

@ 9:11am

This Cloudless Tall Tuesday

THIS MORNING

The Hawk Kitchen 11:30am

This Morning I lay on My Back

in The New Dentist’s Chair

& looked up to see My Future

emblazoned on The Ceiling:

The Flashes

The Split Seconds

i-dent-i-fied Me

& I had on My Bulletproof Vest

not like The Twilight Star

in red brocade

5:40pm

I am seeing The Trees

The Scrub Spruce

through The Memory

of The Shower of Lights

I am seeing My Reality

My Sanctuary

through The Emblazonment

of Divinity

through My Sense of Self

through My God

augmenting

The Birds, The Waves

The Fog

THE HAWK RED DECK CHAIR

3:42pm

Light fog has been heated up

by hurricanes Leslie and Michael

as I listen to My Southerly Surf

with an intermittent skill saw

I hope stops going

I’ve applied The 1st Coat

of Silver Nail Polish

to both sets of Fingers

here in My Red Deck Chair

on a Sunday Afternoon

2 days before The Exact Anniversary

now I’ll apply The 2nd

AN INELEGANT VERSE

The Hawk Deck Steps 2:10pm

It’s in The Water

I drink

Which grows Algae

in The Toilets

but doesn’t make Me sick

It’s in The Water

in motion against

The Shore

Which I can’t live without —

without It I’d be sick —

It’s in The Water

from The Sky

without It We’d

All Die

MESSAGE

The Hawk Deck 12:18pm

They Spoke To Me

Last Night In Near Sleep

“We Can Help You”

& Signalled Me Through

My Mouth

The Hawk Hallway 12:32pm

Was It An Infusion Of Bugs

In My Body

Using One Remaining Sense —

My Sense Of Taste?

 

MY TOMATO-COLOURED COUCH

3:45pm

Southerly Surf resonates

in My Blood —

I’m composed of 50 Trillion Cells

or more —

How many of Them are My Blood

activated

by Each Surge of Sound

moving through Me

moving My Pen

as I sit with Knees up

on The Armless End

of My Tomato-coloured Couch?

THE HAWK KITCHEN 3:00pm

I just killed A Fly

on a ceramic apple tile

in My Kitchen

He was just washing His Front Legs

& I smashed Him

with My Open Left Fist

I picked Him up

from behind the toaster

& threw Him in The Trash —

He wasn’t delivering

any Alien Messages —

not Today anyway