The Hawk West Desk Window 12:13pm
I saw An Angel Once
— while My Mother lay dying —
She Flew from Left to Right
amidst The Bows of A Lofty Pine
I told My Mother Where To Look
for Belly, Arms, Sleeves
She turned Her Head, My Mother did
so She Never Leaves
The Hawk Queen Bed 10:34pm
My Master Plan is to be The Star
Super like no other
so that all I touch will turn to Silver
& all I own to Gold
I will dress My Self as I do now
with careful thought & pride
& live upon My Cans of Soup
My Flame Flung Far & Wide
The Tomato-coloured Couch 7:17pm
I can write whatever I want
a privilege not held in all countries
there, where Women are struggling
while I sit in My Sea-side Outpost
wanting to give, will, Them The Power
I have
to fight the wars Their Men
have made
to fight the hunger of Their
babes
what can I do
but write
My Freedom
& hope It spreads?
The Hawk Basement approx. 10:00am
One Half Of Me Is Gold
— The Other Silver —
I Am The Bionic Woman
Watch Me Turn
Watch Me Switch
Can You Guess
Which Is Witch?
The Hawk West Desk Window 8:35am
Silver makes All The Difference —
It holds Reflected Light — You Can See
Your Self in Its gleaming surface
like The Moon
unrubbed It is neglected
stood upon It is sacred
–
Gold holds no such properties —
merely an internal glow
raging like The Sun
coveted by Men
–
We Are In The Silver Era
The Hawk Portico 2:10pm
I live in a spring-sung aviary
— it has no cage —
I sleep to the peepers
birds mark the day
they have no boundary
but the shore beyond
I live My Life in sustenance
long past the unsung
chapters I wrote
devoted to loss —
now I am here
with wings
as My Cross
The Hawk Kitchen 10:22am
There is a general assumption that men are intelligent
unless otherwise stated
whereas, with women, if a woman’s intelligence shows
She is deemed “an intelligent woman.”
The Hawk Library 5:22pm
Here is A Painting
I have followed all My Life
first at The Valley Cottage House
over the white mantle
then moved to a dark wall
of The Shakespeare House kitchen
Now, in Its mature glory
hung in Hunter’s New Library
where I can sit in Our Wing Chair
across from The Subtle Watercolour
of The Moon as unpainted paper —
Its reflection’s sparkle unpainted
and Its Luminosity
spread from inky cloud
to Hudson River Water Scape
with a 3-planked, 4-posted dock
bathed in silver
–
*Ernest Beverly Walden
The Tomato-coloured Couch 4:45pm
“Hey Jimbo — what colour
is My Underwear?”
“I have no idea –”
“Red, Jim — RED —
I’m Pro Life –”
“That’s good –”
“I have 2,311 views on Self Organizing Galaxy
— where I was white in the beginning
& black at the end –”
“What do You want Me to do?”
“There’s nothing You CAN do, Jim —
I’m angry
& American“
The Hawk Corner Room NOON
Once & Once Only, I wore a teal-coloured dress
sashed red, scoop-necked
& lay My Head, neck arched, hair spread
back against the sunny rear
of the interior of an antique car
driven by A Young Man Named Tad
who looked at Me
in His Rear View Mirror
& didn’t run off the road
Joanna Gilman Hyde 