The Tomato-coloured Couch 6:55pm
I live a privileged life
with a daughter in The Caribbean
& a son out West —
My Family is taken care of
& I am secure in My Wind-proof House
with seven well-fed cats
& a candle on The Living Room Table
The Tomato-coloured Couch 7:20pm
The Fall Of Joanna Gilman Hyde
Has Been My Greatest Climb
I’ve Found The Words I’ve Needed To Use
& Boy I’ve Made Them Chime
note: Death of Mother, Elizabeth Walden Hyde, March 27th, 1993
The Tomato-coloured Couch 5:50pm
I’m having a flash-back
back to when I was in
My Mother’s Womb — I knew then
I’d be a stocky blond
in red sneakers & a white gym suit
on The Roof of # 5 World Trade Center
& grow up to marry well
twice-over —
I knew then I would harbour
within the duration of My Existence
a pulling enticement
which when met
would give birth
to the ultimate contraction
between
young & old
&
I would live & die
in
one
moment
The Hawk Queen Bed 10:22pm
“Hey Everybody! This is God
yes, G-O-D
One of You, All of You
here, as always, to tell Us
We have a correction to make —
in case You were wondering
I am female —
52 years old in Body
infinite in Mind:
Caucasian North American
with a psychiatric history
not permitted to carry a firearm
but I can wear a bullet-proof vest
to guard My Castle-by-the-sea
where I live with My Husband
the very popular Dr Blair
& My Daughter, the very beautiful Eliza
& seven cats —
I’m not kidding around —
on March 31st, 1993, after four days of no sleep
induced by the death of My Mother
I had The Shower Of Silver Lights
crash down on My Head —
I thought I was The Second Coming Of Christ
but I didn’t want to give Christianity
that much credit
so I simplified My Title
My Essence
into Those Three Little Letters
& no, I don’t knowingly control the weather —
it controls Me
& yes, I believe in eternity
& The Sacredness Of Human Life
OR I WOULDN’T BE HERE!!”
“It’s Time To Hear My Rallying Cry
to sort out Our Miseries
Organize
Our Desires
Our Abilities
forget Our failings
Uphold Honesty
for where has Honesty
gone?
It’s Time To Apprehend
My Leadership —
I offer up My Self
for I am One Human
Who has seen The Light
& Knows It To Be
The Light Of This World
Our Precious Little World”
The Tomato-coloured Couch 8:25pm
My Parents have never seen this room
or been anywhere near it —
They’re dead
& I’m glad
so I can enjoy The Rain
on The Skylights
& The Fog Horn
on The Cape
alone
& grown up
The Tomato-coloured Couch 2:11pm
Nearly every morning
I gear up for My 4,000 Metre Row
on My Concept 2 Rowing Machine
with computerized clock:
My Columbia Shell Shorts
Sportex Sports Bra
Joe Fresh Sleeveless Grey Under-shirt
Anklet Sox from Eliza
& Old Nike Sneakers
make Me —
into The Basement I go
to put Classic Vocal Trance
on The Hulk (My Husband’s biggest computer)
& warm up with four rounds each
of personal exercises
I wipe down the C2 bar
on-which the seat slides
& strap My Self into the foot rests
I pull the handles
& focus My Vision on the in-out motion
of the chain
& watch The Clock
like a Hawk
for 11 Minutes & 22 Seconds
— take a clocked break upstairs —
— drink from My LIFE Glass —
& go back down to hit
22:22
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 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
Joanna Gilman Hyde 