The fashionable mantra “Live For Today”
is faulty at best:
It’s Your Past and Your Future
which build Your “Today”
Your Past is where You Come From
It is all you have To Show For Your Life
Your Future is what You Envision
and therefore can make happen
or not make happen
Your Decisions and Your Actions are made
or not made
based on Your Past and Your Future:
“Today” is just lead time
The Hawk Deck 11:10am
I am married to A Very Handsome Doctor
even if He does have some age on Him
It adds to His Allure of Talk
on Occam’s Razor
I live in A Beautiful House By The Sea
& have all the breakfast supplies I need
a basement warehouse of foodstuffs & toilet paper
I have My Mother’s Play House on an island
& My Beautiful Daughter with Her Hot Shot Boyfriend
— He can finance A Mansion at the age of nineteen —
They’re already looking at House Plans
The Hawk Deck 2:15pm
I have been oppressed
by My Free-wheeling Notion of God
I have overlooked
My Innate Intelligence
as It compares to “The Divine”
Yes I saw a Shower Of Lights
proving the existence of “God”
to Me
but I have been haunted still
by questions raised
from This Supreme Experience
The Hawk Deck 6:42pm
What is It that makes A Poem?
Is It the induction of waves
louder now than usual —
or is It a lost conversation
with a Siamese cat named Moulan
(Who seemed to be listening too)
or is It a reminder
when eating canned peaches
that I made a giant sculpture once
“Peaches & Blades”
going floor to ceiling
filling the lobby of Cooper Union’s 4th floor?
Is this A Poem?
The Hawk Living Room 4:35pm
I wrote a poem
in the 3rd grade
inspired by the movie
“Ring Of Bright Water”
which was the only movie
I had seen besides
“The Sound Of Music”
— The Poem hasn’t survived
but I remember being captivated
by The Sparkles In The Sun
to write My Last Line:
“for the beautiful scene had just begun”
The Tomato-coloured Couch 10:04am
My Husband feeds The Cats
— We have six —
& I clean out The Kitty Litter
every morning
while The Coffee’s on
I pan for Gold
in The Basement
& when I’m done
I play Aquarius
in My Nude Night Gown
emptying the dehumidifier
so Hunter’s 350 Folio Books
don’t get musty
I was That Baby
in My Bassinet
on a living room balcony
in a house called The Laundry
I watched The Ceiling
until it grew
into The Balcony Ceiling
here at The Hawk
where I lie back
in My Couch’s Recliner
to look up
& up again
under the cover
of My Grown Up Shelter
Joanna Gilman Hyde 