The Tomato-coloured Couch 7:15pm
I have traded in
My Thick Grey Robe
for dark grey Simon Chang pants
a white sweat shirt
with Star Man Pin
at My Throat
Nike sneakers
(I did check the mail)
all the better
to meet My Husband
when He comes Home
after 9:11
The Tomato-coloured Couch 5:15pm
Dr Blair has a modern house
keeping A New York City Artist
next to the sea shore
She dances to Radioactive in Her Bathrobe
drinking a beer
& talking on the phone
out on The Hawk Deck
where She wonders if Her Voice
carries
The West Desk Window 9:11am
I kissed My Doctor/Husband good-bye
This Morning
for His 13-hour shift —
when He got out of His Bath
He said This Month makes
50 Years
The Tomato-coloured Couch 5:30pm
I married Him under apple boughs
on The Island of My Mother
and when She died
six years later
I would love another
–
I went to see Our Marital House
to see Eliza there
to deliver dishcloths
She was wanting
to see how She had cared
enough to put a sprig of apple
in a bottle neck deep and red
It glowed upon a kitchen sill
I have nothing left to dread
no more hurting husbands
no more dying pets
I am free now
in My Life
even to forget
The Hawk West Desk Window 4:11pm
I have A Voodoo Pain
at the inside of My Left Upper Arm
It’s telling Me to Right Write
telling Me to leave My Tea
telling Me to describe The Pain:
“It’s Itchy, Man!”
pulsating
not now, not now, not now
is It gonna happen again?
I do want My Tea
I’m gonna go get It —
(came back)
NOW — The Pain came again!
but what am I supposed to Right
— how silly — to be Writing
about Righting
ooh — again!
It’s My Left Upper Arm, Near My Elbow
It’s a panging itch
lasts about a second —
–
If I could Write anything
what would I Write Right Now?
ooh — It came
what would I Write without losing My Audience?
Only That Which I Am Capable Of Knowing:
My Self
I Write about My Self All The Time
I Love My Self
but I see My Self as only Half —
–
I went to the bathroom
& The Pain continued
I think It’s telling Me
to keep Writing:
I have another Half
in The Form of A Little Man —
I’m gonna make another Cup Of Tea
–
I’m back
My Rings were on the sink
I put Them on
I Love My Rings
They’re Mine
They have no Halves
I let in My Black Cat
Astro Jasper Cosmo
He’s All Mine
though My Husband Loves Him Too
My Tea is steeping
I haven’t felt another Voodoo Pain
I’ll go check My Tea
Look at all the “I’s”
going Write down this page!
The Hawk Queen Bed 3:00pm
I’m still in bed, in My Pyjamas
& it’s three o’clock in the afternoon
This condition is ostensibly due to sleep deprivation
from last night when I stayed up too late
fooling around with My joannagilmanhyde web address —
It didn’t get corrected until this morning
with My Husband’s help before work
but I wasn’t able to catch up on the sleep
despite taking an Ativan —
as You may have gathered
My Beauty Sleep relies entirely on pills
& regular routine —
any break in the pattern
& I’m shot for the day
–
personal note: My Daughter Eliza just phoned
that She’s got a summer job at Shelburne’s Osprey Arts Center
The Hawk Kitchen 7:15pm
I used to announce to Hunter
when I felt a wave of happiness
& now I have felt not The Wave
but The Smooth Line — The Flat Line
of complete fulfilment:
It came in My Kitchen
cooking Fettuccine Alfredo
with spaghetti noodles
& looking out the sink window
to the evening light
on the rocks
lining My Cellar Drive
The Hawk Kitchen 10:11pm
Out on My Deck
I drink in The Inspiration
of The Morning
with a North West Wind
at My Back
& coffee steeping
on The Counter inside
where My New Lettered Glass
lures Me to It’s Self
–
*quote from WHB
The Hawk West Desk Window 8:30pm
I am married to a Very Important Person:
a Man with Whom People confer
telling Their deepest concerns
seeking guidance
medical attention
& moral advice
He’s been in This Position
for fifty years
& probably will be
for The Rest of His Life
Barrington Passage, NS 2:22pm
I’m sitting in a Doctor’s Office
One of The Safest Places
in The World
or is It?
Here I am given a little green pill
to ward off anxiety
about The World at Large
I have had My Talk
& My Walk
but continue to feel
a shadow
of uneasiness
Joanna Gilman Hyde 