Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

Tag: death

I BESEECH YOU 7:22pm

“Stay With Me”

Stay With God

He Is All We Have Left

He Is Falling Away

&

 Needs Us

He Is Male & Female

Dark & Light

He Lives For Us

In What’s Left Of Our Mind

He Is Us

LITE VERSE

10:48am

I look at the water dazzle

& think of what to write

I’ve been with Hunter

thirteen years

& not without a fight

11:00am

I want to climb into bed

like A Child

& hold onto My Daddy’s Head

from here to infinity

wild

OK ‘cuz now He’s dead

11:22am

A Butterfly has inspected

Me

I don’t know where She’ll

Land

perhaps on Someone Else’s

Lips

or in a Friendship’s

Hand

THE HAWK DECK 7:30pm

The Scattered Crumbs

of Lemon Loaf Cake

brush off My Black Lap

like a speckling of stars

& down The Cleavage

of My Tattoo Sweater

like Those sucked inside

My Very Blackest Hole

THE HAWK DIARY

I have dreamt The Dream

of a Life Time

here in this darkened Back Room

behind a room

of Hospital #1

David —

I have come

to The Core

of The Matter

It Is Black

but Not Deadly 

THE HAWK WEST WINDOW 10:00am

INDUCTING THE BLACK SWAN

I have seen The Post Card

from Tommy of Mexico

wilted on My Daughter’s Mirror

across from Her Bed

where I first met

The Boyfriend of Currency

Today I do The Laundry

Dressed In Black:

Black Tank, Black Capris

with My Silver Necklace

& Silver Hoops

Hunter, My Practising Husband/Doctor

may not go to Work

tomorrow

and I may not

see a friend

 

THE HAWK DECK 12:15pm

I remember lying in That February Sun

or was it March or April?

inadequate

with a step-sister who couldn’t help Me

no one could

I had abandoned My Self

to My Suffering

alleviated only by

bed-lying

couch-lying

& towel-lying on driveway stones

in the tepid sun

of 1997

THE HAWK WEST WINDOW 10:30pm

The World Ended

for a sprinkling of ants

poured out from a Root Beer can

I picked up Today

@ The Base of My Painting

EMBLEM FOR THE GROWTH OF SILVER

@ The Side of Highway 3

teeming through

My Barrington Passage

GRAFFITI BY PROXY

gonna bomb dat RJ

shitting on His Rock

gonna lay up My Fire Ball

on dat Emergency Tag

gonna hit every car

every crib, zillions

bomb dis hole fuckin worl

THE SOBEY’S PARKING LOT 5:15pm

I Was First In Line

For My Abortion

& I Claimed It:

Him/Her I Kept

Forever In My Shattered Heart

In The Next Room Over

From That Waiting Room

Full

Of Silent Women

THE HAWK PORTICO 6:36pm

I wrote A Book once

of 364 pages

describing The Illness & Death

of My Mother

& what happened to Me

after four days of no sleep —

sleep deprivation induced by Death:

The Shower of Lights

Seeing The Meaning of Life

Fixation Upon a Little Man

induced by The Telepathic Message:

“Joanna, the reason I am not answering Your Calls

is that I am at home, in the same condition

You are in — Yes We are reading Each Other’s Minds —

and no one knows what’s going on —

there is no expression for Love Divine

but this is as close as We can come…”

My last words to Him were:

“David, I am shredding My Manuscript —

all 5 copies, & The Shredder

is getting overheated —

It keeps quitting every 20 minutes

giving Me Pause For Thought”

Hint:

One Surviving Copy

may be somewhere

in The Vermont Farm House

of My Widowed Stepmother

Who assures Me

It’s Somewhere