Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

Tag: Dr David Hamilton Wilson

I’VE GOT THE POWER

The Hawk Living Room 6:50pm

My Shredded Manuscript has been found —

not the shreds, which were dumped

at the side of the road

in three clear garbage bags

two years ago —

but a surviving copy

in Vermont

in an old farm house

belonging to My Stepmother

Who shared in My Happiness today

when I called Her

& She asked, ” Have You heard

The Good News?”

My suicidal activity

has been undone

& I don’t have to DO anything

with The Resurrection

like re-write It

into an epic poem

I can merely bask

in Its discovery

& know that It’s safe

driven by Eliza & Her Boyfriend

home by Saturday

MY BOOK NAMED “SAM”

The Hawk Deck 10:45am

Two years ago I spent

an entire afternoon

shredding five copies of a 364-page manuscript

I wrote after My Mother died

I set up the shredder from My Husband’s office

and opened the first of five bottles of beer

In those next seven hours

There went all the sections, chapters

ten pages at a time

with the shredder quitting every twenty minutes —

There went the first chapter

of My Tragic Brother overlapping

My Mother’s diagnosis

October 2, 1991

of a malignant brain tumour —

There went the chapters on living

with Her Illness and Decline

There went the chapter on The Death

March 27, 1993

There went the chapter on The Cremation

with The Chickadee’s Visit

There went Me

on no sleep

for four days — There went

The Shower of Silver Lights

on March 31st, 1993

There went The Little Doctor

calling Me a “Seer” on April Fool’s Day —

There went The First Depression

There went The Magical Moment

October 22, 1993 with The Little Doctor

There went The Telepathic Message

with Him :  Dr David Hamilton Wilson

There went My Second Pregnancy —

The Baby Girl I Dreamt Up —

infant I breast fed until She was two*

There went the section on writing the book

and getting literally lost in My Work

on a rented computer

There went subsequent depressions

Dreams of The Little Doctor

There went forever, maybe,

the description of My Childhood Parrot “Sam”

whose faulty clipping job I attempted

at My age of eleven which left him

unable to fly in My Bedroom

(which for some reason I didn’t want Him to do)

but left Him able only to veer off in sickly circles

until I had to give Him up to another little girl

when He became a problem at the Canadian/US border

at each summer crossing

Finally there went the last line of the book

which I will always have, written in June of 1996

as a married woman:

“The Bird In My Hand Is Worth Two In My Bush”

*Daughter Eliza now looking for possible surviving copy

2:00pm — Daughter Eliza FOUND IT in My Stepmother’s farmhouse in Vermont

THE WROUGHT IRON TABLE

The Hawk Deck 2:22pm

I was raised on an after-school diet

of fairy tales

listened to

on My Mother’s record player

with British accents I absorbed

the lamentations

of The Little Mermaid

Cinderella

Snow White

& Sleeping Beauty

& wrote in My First Adolescent Diary

“Could He Be The One?”

MYSTICISM ON PARADE

The Hawk Deck 10:26am

Unlike The Indoor Cat

Who contemplates going out

and goes

but not for long

I have arrived at My Fate

and will stay here

in any kind of weather

because I’ve seen It coming

I’ve felt the pull of ecstasy

I am Set Up

to receive It

Open Armed

Open Legged

WAITING FOR 10:22

The Hawk Deck 9:47am

Yes, The Flies are going to grant Me

My Complete Happiness

I hear Them calling

periodically

along with The Waves

The Birds

& an occasional Cat

Oh — I just sneezed — twice

I see The Universe

when I sneeze

Have I Ever Told You That?

UP

The Hawk Deck 8:55am

It’s warming up

to a beautiful day

I Am Ushering In My Life

out on The Deck

I Am Eating My Banana

in a contemplative mode

listening, as always, to North Eastern Surf

dressed in My Robe

of Warm Silver

AFTERNOON SHAFT

The Tomato-coloured Couch 3:35pm

After making love with My Husband

After making a macaroni casserole

I sit in A Shaft Of Light

on The Tomato-coloured Couch

I flip through a Gucci catalogue

& listen to 90’s on 9

abandoning DHW

at least for now

He gave Me That Number

10:22

October 22, 1993

I have built a construct of living

around That Number, That Date

A Housefly flies into The Shaft

glinting like A Firefly

RECEPTION

The Tomato-coloured Couch 1:00pm

There Was No Little Yellow Bird

In The Scraggly Apple

When I Said My Prayer

Today

But The Waves Were There

The Waves Heard Me

And So My Prayer

Is Answered

ON THE PSYCH WARD

The Hawk West Desk Window 8:51pm

I had to line up at 9:00pm

for My “Meds”

with monotonous regularity

during My Confinement(s)

where My “Activity Level” was marked

“O” on a big white bulletin board

& all I could do to occupy My Self

was write in My Diary

never finish a jigsaw puzzle

& put up signs in My Room

stating “I Am The Figurative Christ”

& “I Am Starving (literally) for Somebody

Nobody Knows” — name spelled out on sign —

(They made Me take the signs down)

 

SECURITY

The Hawk Deck NOON

The harsh call of The Crow

interspersed with My Meandering Mind

alerts Me to what

I am thinking

as an accent mark

an exclamation point:

Yes — I am happy

here on My Deck

I am secure

— oh! another Crow —

I am secure here

but My Mind is connected

to a twenty-year-old

event

which has guided Me

to this place of solace

and guides Me still