Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

Tag: artist

February 16, 2013

THE MILK OF HUMAN KINDNESS

The Hawk Queen Bed 9:31am

I have woken up to My House in a mess

Eggplant Parmesan has gone uneaten

kitty litter litters Our Bathroom

& has scattered down The Stairs

— it’s The Weekend —

there’ll be no carpenters to work

on Hunter’s Library

but He’s making coffee for Me

I have a window open

& can hear a first bird

of Spring

–

10:30am

The Golden Arches Lay

flattened by last week’s wind

crumpled slightly on the lot

of McDonald’s in Barrington

turned upside down

at closer range

I see Their configuration

as the cartoon drawing

of dangling tits

–

10:42am

My Black Journal lays

on My Lap against My Bare Legs

I’m still in My Black Nightgown

with Black Underwear

My Titties are contained

in a Black Sports Bra

I have drunk My Coffee

& Hunter is Up

eating His Sticky Buns

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February 15, 2013

UNIDENTIFIED FLYING OBJECT

The Hawk Queen Bed 8:37pm

I’ve been playing the role

of Domestique

and enjoying it, for the most part

but the Time Has Come

for Me to Branch Out

to ruffle My Feathers

like the big buzzard-like bird

I saw this afternoon

with a big red beak/head

— a bird I had never seen before —

It flew off through the view

of hastily-grabbed binoculars

beyond the scrub spruce

I have yet to look It up

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February 14, 2013

VALENTINE

The West Desk Window 11:26pm

I have been arranging My Daughter’s Roses

for years it seems

at least since We moved to The Hawk

when bouquets started coming through the front door

from boyfriends and mothers

— some ended up dried

to be arranged again in fake crystal

or an old pewter pitcher —

tonight the heftiest bunch of all

came in with fluid-providing tubes

& baby’s breath to be thrown away

as I clipped twelve stems

stood Them in My heaviest vase

& carried The Arrangement

upstairs to Her Dresser

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February 14, 2013

WHAT IS MY MATURITY LEVEL?

The Arms & Hands of The Hawk Occupant 1:22pm

He’s going away again

for the 3rd monthly segment since November

to The Dominican Republic

& I’m not allowed to miss His Proximity

I’m instructed to use mental telepathy

instead I’m dressed to Kill

in a Black & Aqua Patterned Super Hero Top I’ve never worn

in My Black Leggings & Black Ankle Boots

Black Socks & Black Underwear

Silver Fish earrings given to Me

by My Aunt Angie on My 31st Birthday

My Birks Endless Silver Spiral Bangle

Dark Lipstick

I could Kill

with A Word

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February 13, 2013

ENITNELAV

Rudder’s Yarmouth 3:47pm

He carries Me like Christ

He goes before Me on Highways

in traffic tie-ups

I hear His Word

against any bad decision

on My Part

He is embodied

embedded

in My (——-)

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February 12, 2013

JOURNAL ENTRY

The Tomato-coloured Couch 5:00pm

“Maybe He has carried You far enough”

“But He will carry Me for The Rest of My Life”

“You are happy, now, where You are”

“Are You trying to tell Me to get rid of Him?”

“No, but just keep Him In Reserve”

“Yes, maybe I can do that.  He needn’t be

in the forefront of My Mind”

“He needn’t be in the forefront

of The World”

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February 12, 2013

ARE YOU ALL SILVERED OUT?

The Hawk Kitchen 11:11am

Those *2* Giant Blocks

of Rectangular Silver

Came Crashing Down

on My Miles of Silver Duct Tape

on My Miles of Watery Plastic Sheeting

on My Ten-thousand Square Feet of Dacron Canvas

laid out, smoothed out

weighed down by 400 Sand Bags

Painted for Thousands of Office Workers

It was My

Self Organizing Galaxy

It All Came Crashing Down

in Zillions of Silver Streaks

on My Head on The Afternoon of March 31st, 1993

I have been crawling out ever since

note:  title from WHB

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February 10, 2013

SERVER NOT FOUND

February 9th The Tomato-coloured Couch 6:58pm

The Internet is down

with a Red Exclamation Mark

notifying This Account

of no connection

I am connected

I am tuned in

on My Island attached

by a flooded causeway

to the rest of The Province

to the rest of The World

I could be, am I?

That Server

–

February 10th The Hawk Corner Room Noon

Can You make a poem

out of a News Report

of an eleven-year-old Boy

killed by carbon monoxide poisoning

while a Father shovelled snow

a Son kept warm

by an idling engine?

–

1:00pm

I could be that Determined Girl

Who shut Her Self in Her Room

stared at Her Self in Her Dresser Mirror

until The Glaring Face

moulded It Self into distorted patches

of brooding dark hues

I could have a lock-in

a lock-down

with the radio on for music

but not for News

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February 8, 2013

SELF-PORTRAIT

The Hawk Corner Room 2:43pm

I sit angled on The Couch

half-way facing The Steel-cold Ocean

My Right Arm crooked on a blanket

to hold My Silver Pen

My Knees bent on the edge of a cushion

I am warm

& breathing

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February 7, 2013

WHAT HAPPENED?

The Tomato-coloured Couch 7:10pm

What happened to The Effervescent Girl

of Yesterday

Who willingly drove into Shelburne

for lunch & coffee

with Her Daughter

dressed — The Effervescent Girl —

care-free in Her LL Bean Jeans & Blouse

delivering Her Daughter’s grad photo

to be framed

What happened to make today come

where She finds Her Self

tired & sullen

dressed again in black

to drive to Yarmouth

for Her Husband’s CT Scan

to come home to a trapped cat

Who’s made an unwashable mess

on Eliza’s comforter?

 

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