Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

Tag: house keeping


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 Utility Room 9:05pm

I sit before My Latest Painting

starting out as M(EYE) BODY

but quickly seen out

as Aquatic Foliage —

I’m wearing My most expensive earrings

which, earlier today, caught fire

in The Hawk Living Room

when I observed a filament cluster

of cat hair floating mid air

in a beam of sun from The Sky Light —

as I bent to grasp

and missed

The Illuminated Galaxy,

sparks ignited on The Floor —

M(EYE) Precious Grounding Floor —

as I glinted rays dangling from M(EYE) Lobes

all around

and down below


The Hawk En Suite Bath 1:32pm

There’s A Crab Nebula

on My Silver

Bathroom Faucet —

EYE think





The Hawk West Desk Window 10:46am

I am convinced

that God is Woman —

the more I clean My House

or try to —

the more galaxies I create

the more black holes I fill

& the more germs

rather than eliminate

I choose to live with —

I am convinced


The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 1:45pm

I’ve done enough

of sweeping up galaxies —

it’s an endless task

organizing, compiling known particles

of cat hair, cat food crumbs

specks of kitty litter, the occasional claw point

not to mention Heaven’s Dust

heavy in My House —

“Out Damn Spot!”


The Tomato-coloured Couch 3:40pm

My House is My Galaxy —

all the dust, stars

all the cat hairs

the filaments of life

It is lit up

by a future Sun

on the outskirts

of My Dream

& as I clean

I think of infinity


The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 1:55pm

In M(EYE) Left Hand

I hold the Stars of The Future:

Silver Glitter from The Removal

of M(EYE) X-Miss Tree —

One Silver Orb off The Star from The Top

& One Piece of The Tree

Itself — organic & bulbous —

a planet perhaps?


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

I Just Made A Bed

The Hawk West Desk Window 12:30pm

I just made a bed

for The Procreation Of Humanity:

I spread out a dark brown bottom fitted sheet

and picked off The Galaxies

stuck there —

I overlaid the top sheet — dark purple

tucked it under the queen-size mattress

& filled the matching pillow cases

with very old pillows

The Comforter went over last —

old too because of the occupancy

of cats


The Tomato-coloured Couch 8:45pm

My House is Ready

every dried rose is in place

not a spoon sits in the sink

all specks are off the floors

the coffee-table candle is lit

I am waiting for My Husband

to come home from work

& I am waiting, in place

for My Little Frog

to hop through