DOES ANYONE UNDERSTAND THIS?
The Tomato-coloured Couch 2:55pm
What am I
without the love
of An Idea
rather than the man
embodying
It?
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The Tomato-coloured Couch 2:55pm
What am I
without the love
of An Idea
rather than the man
embodying
It?
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 10:00am
I live with A Doctor
Who has a butterfly brain
— so His Father said —
I pick up cat hairs
in the form of galaxies
off My Expensive Floors
I live a dream
of 22 years
& when it’s snowing
& My Dream is leaving
I write
that I don’t care
Sobey’s Parking Lot 5:oopm
I stood before
the fullish moon
hands of naked charm
I walked the lot
through the grocery door
My Version of Love
by the arm
The Tomato-coloured Couch 4:38pm
When I saw
My Shower of Silver Lights
I saw The Figure of Christ
across from Me
I saw that Christ
was enmeshed
with The Light
& I cannot
be contained
I cannot be contained
I cannot
be contained
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 9:41am
Yesterday I was compelled to listen
to David Bowie’s
“I Am A Black Star”
EYE got creeped out
& then He
Died
The Hawk West Desk Window 10:22am
This is The Year
I am no longer
The Second Coming of Christ —
instead, or along with —
EYE am An Artist
with The Spirit of Christ
allowing Me to Create
& Create & Create
& Create & Create
& Create
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 6:55pm
EYE have decided to leave
My Fuchsia Lip Print
on The Rim of My Sacred Life Glass –
It rests
like a purple leaf above
the scripted “Life”
set in Black
& EYE drink from It
layer upon layer
The Hawk Kitchen 8:30am
When I see
The Magic
on My Kitchen Clock
I stand back —
EYE take It in —
those Numbers : 2:22
or 9:11
or M(EYE) Best Friend —
10:22
Those Numbers take Me back
& fill Me Whole
with the recall
of M(EYE) most famous
Moment
22 years ago:
10:22
The Moment with M(EYE) Lover
Who accepted Me
& what EYE said
unconditionally
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 5:55pm
The Moon said Hello
to Me as soon as I looked
He lit up My Clouds
The Hawk Kitchen 3:00pm
Bundled against the brazen squall of snow
Eye am stumped
after perusing over the roots —
root stems from The Drowned Forest
looking for branching sections
to string together somehow
like a spine
of bare limbs to make
an ad hoc
X-Miss Bush
My Own
this year — a dead array
for perhaps the cats
to climb — to hang
13 silver birds & even more plastic snow flakes
to deck the TV Room
with the barren interlocking
drift wood
stumps
which can only be piled, tangled
(not constructed / not drilled)
into a vertical heap
(very un-tree-like)
instead Eye will have to pinch
a dead spruce, whole
from beyond My Back Yard
& set it, bolt upright
in a front window
Joanna Gilman Hyde 