Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

Tag: home making


Eye bought Silver Satin Sheets

for The Man Eye Cannot Have

but made My Bed with old

brown flannel bottom

and holy cream top

for The Man Who Is My  Husband


The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 3:20pm

How dare anyone

infiltrate My Sanctuary —

especially The Father of My 2.4 Children —

here to The North I have

the forest of scrub spruce I love

the stone wall upon which I contemplated

smashing My Precious Life Glass —

how dare anyone

even a neighbour I like

enter across My Eastern Ocean View

upon which I gaze with such favour —

out there I can let My Mind

be free — free of past

hurt and negation

free of obstacles to My Happiness

so profound

as I stand before

the shores

of My Intellect


The Tomato-coloured Couch 11:47am

How many galaxies

have I picked up

blown into corners

of My Universe —

how many have I created

wiping up cat hairs

off The Kitchen Ottoman

or The Thick Grey Bath Mat

turned inside My Toilet Bowl

and scrubbed hairless

with a wet cloth?


The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 7:50am

The Sunlight beams Its Silver

in on Me at My Window

of The Hawk Kitchen Outpost

where I wait for coffee water

to boil

and decide that today

is My First Suitable Day

for hanging out The Wash


The Hawk Computer 6:04 pm

My Husband, Dr William Hunter Blair, now believes

that My World Trade Center Roof Top Painting from 1984

titled Self Organizing Galaxy

may have given someone the idea

for 9/11


EYE have not been writing much —

EYE have been making recordings into M(EYE) cell phone

in-which M(EYE) Husband does not seem very interested.


The Hawk Queen Bed 10:22am

Spread out before Me

is My Unmade Bed

covered in rubbery white

against spills —

I see The Hairs of Life

embedded as the Theory

of Strings & Galaxies

against Our Backdrop

of Infinity


The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 3:28pm

I take out

My Star-studded Kitchen Mat

& shake It in The Wind —

I sweep the mangled cobwebs

off My Sliding Glass Door —

I keep My Green-checked Apron on

over My Peachy Capris

& cross My Knees

in My Grandmother’s

Wrought-iron Kitchen Chair

preparing to call a friend


The Hawk Kitchen 2:48pm

I know what it means

to be a housewife:

picking lint galaxies

off Your Husband’s Shirts

doing a light load of wash

for A Grown Daughter

Who’s off to be

with Her Grown Brother

wondering if Your Children will appear

for supper


The Hawk Kitchen 2:55pm

I put My green-checked apron

on over My Glittering Chains

dangling from Eliza’s left-over sweater

while a big black cat circles My Ankles —

I’m ready to make lasagna

for various dinners this week —

the first week for My Husband

in His New Town

The First for Me

as The Doctor’s Wife