January 17 The Hawk Queen Bed 10:55pm
Imagine going to sleep
with the windows open
more than a crack
in the middle of January
letting in the swoosh of waves
no wind
only the recollection
of words to a little doctor
in 1993:
I feel so vulnerable,
I need a doctor who loves me —
I need to be taken care of
in more ways than one
in 2014
I thrive
in The Hawk Queen Bed
beside a giant doctor
who loves Me
Barrington Passage 4:05pm
Two Geese Honked O’erhead
“Your’s Is An Ungainly Love — ”
Flapping Toward The Moon
The Hawk West Desk Window 2:22pm
I have given up, for now
My Old Silver Towel
in-which I buried My Face
My Darkest Secrets
to smell instead
The Comfort Of Clean Gold —
My New Robe
Of Contentment
The Tomato-coloured Couch 2:22pm
saw Dark Hawk in flight
against My Turbulent Sky:
Survival Power
The Hawk Queen Bed 1:22pm
Trying to take a nap
with one Ativan
& My Doctor/Husband beside Me
I am in My Underwear
with snow squalls out Our window
— I don’t have My Glasses on —
everything’s all a blurb
The Tomato-coloured Couch 5:09pm
I have The Embodiment Of Physical Thought
periodically pulsating within Me, in My Gut
just below My Left Rib Cage
It calls My Attention
to whatever activity I am engaged in
— I feel It, The Embodiment, often —
The Thought It Carries
is always happy
It, The Pulsation, is The Tangibility
of Happiness
–
I am looking at A Star
— probably a planet —
and as The Star sets
behind black clouds
I summon It —
— The Sensation —
Happiness
The Tomato-coloured Couch 7:41pm
My Husband has given up
on trying to talk any sense
into Me.
He claims He no longer has any opinion
on what psychiatric diagnosis
might be responsible for My Skewered Reality.
He claims He will never speak again
of His Theory as to why I latched on
to a Little Scottish Doctor four days after
My Mother Died:
His Fifteen-year-old Theory that I had a symbiotic relationship
with My Mother, transferred onto The Little Man.
That My Husband may never discuss this subject again
should be a relief to Me
yet I find My Self in the foulest of moods.
Maybe I am getting
a menopausal period.
The Tomato-coloured Couch 5:55pm
He & I are Black Jesus
crawling out of The Depths
of filth & squalor
out of Lies & Untruths
clawing Our Way Out
of The World Today, Tonight
into The Sublime
of misunderstood Union
Joanna Gilman Hyde 