The Tomato-coloured Couch 10:22pm
I sang in My Kitchen
with cats like children
underfoot
potato steam
rising high
happy to cook
happy to clean
The Hawk Kitchen 11:11am
This morning a Blue Jay
came to the top
of The Scraggly Apple
to say, “What’s In Store
For Today — Today –“
Then He flew away
The Hawk West Desk Window 9:22pm
When I go to bed
I’m up in a Tree House
with the wind @ My Head
& the sloping ceiling
wafting over Me
like a Tent
The Hawk West Desk Window 11:45am
My Children live
in temporary housing:
Peak’s is an 8′ x 12′ cubicle
in a modular unit
furnished by Cenovus
in Alberta —
Eliza’s is a room in the basement
of a house owned by a single mother
5 minutes away from Acadia University
These are the rooms
meant for not much more than laying down One’s Head —
the private enclaves of worker and student —
These are the habitats of youth
on the move
on Their Way to achieving
some semblance of
permanance
The Hawk West Desk Window 10:11pm
This First New Year’s Eve
for My “of age” Daughter
saw Her donning black stockings
in the back of My Ford Fusion
& tripping out to Her Fete (circumflex)
in Italian pressed leather heels
from Her Mother’s 1984
The Hawk Kitchen 1:10pm
My Voice Is Signalling Me
To Write Of The Abomination
That Is Christmas:
How Can I Devour
The Little Children’s Innocence
When They Hear Of Santa
Coming Down A Vaginal Chimney
When They Hear The Living Lie
Of That Baby Jesus
Immaculately Conceived?
The Hawk West Desk Window 10:00pm
My Daughter was born
into a pool of water
and lifted up
like Venus Rising
with a beauty from another world
Eliza’s Out Now
at a drinking party
showing off reindeer sweaters:
She’s in one from Me
and Her Boyfriend’s in one
knitted by My Mother
for Her High School Sweetheart
The Hawk Queen Bed 9:18am
I am in A Black Mood
but there is Power in My Madness
for I can wield The Hand
of Time
I can carry out My Wish
of no sickness within the scope
of My Reality
I can make Black Magic
into Child’s Play
and conduct The Truth
through My Fingers
The Tomato-coloured Couch 3:56pm
I am The Little Girl —
stomach stuffed with Dipped Digestives
& Ginger Snaps
–
I am The Filthy Crow —
crazed & caged above A Cathedral-ceilinged
Living Room
–
I am The Entity Within —
pulsating to life
alerting My Gut, & so Me
to the impossibility
of Reconciliation
The Hawk West Desk Window 10:44pm
The First Dying Rose
Taken From Eliza’s Bedroom Bouquet —
petals too limp to dry —
Its Russet Pink Still Enthralling —
Stands Upright In My Bathroom
waste basket
Joanna Gilman Hyde 