Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

Tag: existence

I AM A RELIGIOUS PERSON

The Tomato-coloured Couch 5:30pm

I Have Been Sent

By My Spirit

To This Time

This Place

For The Acquisition

Of A Proper

Life

Of Heady Happiness

Deep Mourning

& The Exclamation

Of Perfection

In All Things

WORTH

The Tomato-coloured Couch 4:00pm

I stand in a shaft of sun

drinking from My Silver-frosted

Chalice of Life

I stop to look

at just what I am

consuming

I see The Earth

The Potency of Life

quivering

in My Well-oiled

Grip

WHEN I DRINK

The Hawk Deck 12:22pm

When I Drink Water

From My Chalice Of Life

I See The Bottom

Of My Glass

As A Fertilized Egg

Cradled

By My Little Finger

SAVOURING

The Hawk Deck 11:42pm

I Am White Jesus

sitting in a sun hat

sounding out individual waves

from the overview of surf

savouring the tranquillity

of My Eternal Youth

MODEL

The Hawk Deck 10:40am

I Am A Model

Human Being

I Choose My Clothes Wisely

paying careful attention

to Colours

to The Significance of Jewellery

I go prepared

With Time On My Hands

into any Social

or Political

Situation

I Stand For Righteousness

Fair Treatment

& Reverence

for

Human Life

I Am A Model

of

My Existence

WHAT DO I SEE?

The Hawk West Desk Window 10:11pm

What Do I See

When I Close My Eyes?

I See The Mark

Of Infinity

Within The Swirling Masses

Of Colour, Sprayed Out

Overlapping

Lodged Forever

Behind My View

& In The Forefront

COCOON

The Hawk Kitchen 8:00pm

I Am The White Jesus

Arms Held In

Across My Chest

In A White Sweatshirt

White Shorts

White Underwear

My Old Psychiatrist

Warned Me About

Dressing Like Christ

— I Can If I Want —

Especially In My Own

Kitchen

With A View

To The Neighbours’

With Their White

Car From The 50’s

In Their Back Yard

I SEE A UNIVERSE

The Hawk Kitchen 9:30pm

I see A Universe

lurking in the bottom

of My Dirty Broiler Pan

Before I pour the steak juice

down the sink

let Me tell You what I see:

I see Suns, many many Suns

made from fat globules

some closer, some farther

in a wash of reddish

nebulae

in the upper left-hand corner

— the right side

holds residual stars

too numerous

to count

& soon to dissolve

in dish soap

& even after cleaning

The Pan Itself

reveals an infinite

dusting

of white matter

baked in

Its enamel

 

TWENTY YEAR TRUTH

The Hawk Portico 1:33pm

My Silver Spears, Swords

have armed Me

against the upheaval

of The World Economy

against The Super Bugs

of Hospital Rooms

& They have enabled Me

to sing out Their Praises

in The Enclosure

of My

Edge

MIXED METAPHOR

The Hawk Portico 6:25pm

When The Waves

At The Back

Have Accompanied Me

Through Midday,

Simmering Down By Evening,

I Come To The Front

To The Hawk Portico

Where I Can Turn My Ear

To A New Batch