dat De-Press-ion ain’t
gonna git Me agin
no matta how It come
lurkin’ around
–
It ain’t gonna stop Me
from doin’ de dishes
–
eatin’ Ma suppa
–
It ain’t gonna stop Me
from drivin’ wid Ma Baby Girl
out to La Creamy
Treat
in de settin’ sun
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
How grateful I am
for the rustling hedge
for The Second Labatt’s Blue
there in The Fridge
H–‘s upstairs finishing
a nap
Eliza’s been horsed
all that’s left
is supper
on tap
I wonder if I am going
to fall into a routine —
sleeping with My Pills
showering in The Morning
walking to The Infirmary
visiting Dr Blair —
walking back to The Hotel
awaiting My Message
There
God Made That Peach
or Did That Peach
have The Know-how
To Make Itself?
–
Why Is There Something Rather Than Nothing?
If There Were Nothing
No One Would Know
& There Would Be No Question
–
Rudder’s, Yarmouth, NS
We are teetering on The Brink
of abandoning God
which We Must Not Do
for then We would Be
Abandoning Ourselves
–
THE HAWK DECK 8:25pm
Tonight I See
Oh — where did It go?
I See, I Write
an ink blot
White Ink
against a grey page
of Sky
–
8:39pm
Why on Earth is That Sun taking so Long?
It’s preparing to make a Rainbow
— a full arc with rainbow ripples
on The Inner Edge
*
I see a Cloudscape
beyond layers
of bamboo shrub
& scrub spruce
mountainous over The Blue Horizon
exalting
in My Nimbus
of Regeneration
There’s powder on My Face
My White Sweat Shirt
over My New Black
Push Up Bra
I put on Black Socks
old jeans that still fit
–
I’m off to shop for The Makings
of Stew
with My Cans still rattling
around
in My Black Escape
–
The Noon Radio News reports
“rising tide levels along coastal regions
& severe weather events
in the coming years.”
Joanna Gilman Hyde 