The Hawk Queen Bed 9:50am
Open This Door
Come Into My Delusion
You Are Welcome Here
With Me On A Mat
of Black Satin
Fuchsia Pillow Between
My Legs
Lay With Me
& I Will Tell You
My Life Story —
Oh How I Was A Child Once —
While We Both Smoke
Our Opium Haze
The Tomato-coloured Couch 2:55pm
What am I
without the love
of An Idea
rather than the man
embodying
It?
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 Tomato-coloured Couch 2:58pm
With the last of the lobster quiche
in Me
I muffled My Self
against the beach
to walk My Self
to The Guzzle —
when last I’d sat
upon its barnacled rock
the spread of surging flow
was at My Feet —
today that seat
marked The Guzzle Switch
unreachable
to the other side
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 12:37pm
What is The Significance
of seeing stars
when I bend over
My Kitchen Sink Mat
to pick It up
to shake outside
where the stars of day
cannot be seen?
The Hawk Hallway 8:00am
This Morning I see The Moon
two days from full
sitting in the western sky
setting into a band of pink
and farther into one of blue
She heralds My Day
with Her Emblem of Quietude
as I see Her move
ever so diagonally
below the wires
across My View
The Tomato-coloured Couch 3:20pm
I can sit in The Sun
on My Tomato-coloured Couch
happy to have My Living Room back
from The Exodus
of M(EYE) X Miss Tree —
I can listen to The Coffee House
and wait for a phone call
from My Son
while the snow melts
off the shovelled steps —
I can live
in My Beautiful House relaxed
no longer feeling bereft
of family
and feeling that M(EYE) Life
is complete
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 1:00pm
The Breakers Come
in slowly
cresting slightly
then fully
allowing time enough
to take in
the extreme satisfaction
of feeling
the successful desire
of The Ocean’s
explosive release
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 10:00am
I live with A Doctor
Who has a butterfly brain
— so His Father said —
I pick up cat hairs
in the form of galaxies
off My Expensive Floors
I live a dream
of 22 years
& when it’s snowing
& My Dream is leaving
I write
that I don’t care
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 4:20pm
My Brother, Who’s Dead,
used to make & bring
a cup of tea
sipping off the too-full brim
before handing it
to Me
Joanna Gilman Hyde 