The Hawk West Desk Window January 7th 10:55pm
The Swimming Pools of Dallas
shone like American Indian Turquoise Necklaces
strung around the kind of Suburbia
I would never see as clearly from the ground
as I could see from My Graduate’s Plane
taking Me across the Midlands of The US
to meet a man with whom I had barely corresponded
to find His Bed available
but attached by The String:
“You would be any man’s desire but
I’m saving My Self for Marriage”
The Hawk Dining Room 2:22pm
In My Sleep This Morning
One Line came to Me
but I was too tired
to write It down:
“My Love Is As Deep As An Unsung Well”
Here It Is Penned
At This Time
while I spoon My Christmas Turkey Soup
out of a big black cup
The Hawk West Desk Window 10:55pm
We live in The Era Coming
where there is no such thing as “Mental Illness”
no need for Psychiatrists
They can go home
no need for catalogues, labels, DSM volumes
or medication (except for sleep)
We Are Human All
behaving as Humans
within Our vast array of possibility
Our Observations
are based on fundamental perception
and based on Our interpretation of perception
within Its vast array of possibility
GOOD NIGHT
The Hawk Kitchen 7:45pm
Tonight when I went out in The Dark
to scrape a dinner plate for The Crows
I heard the distinct honking of geese
somewhere below the constellation of Orion
— the only constellation I recognize
beside The Big Dipper —
Oh, I didn’t tell You —
a few days ago — no, December 22nd —
I met one of the nurses from The Psych Unit
in the bakery section of MY Sobey’s
— it was One Who doled out bedtime pills —
She could barely say hello
The Hawk Queen Bed 8:00am
I Am Your Black Jesus
I Am The Silver Christ
flashing hot with menopause
sleep-deprived from letting Astro out @ 5:00
waking Eliza for school @ 6:30
making coffee for My Husband @ 7:00
The Tomato-coloured Couch 9:11pm
I was That Girl
Who watched uneasily
as Her Brother’s Friend
heaped dried leaves
on top of a little fire
lit to cook onion grass
in The Woods behind Her House
–
I was That Girl
Who ran back to The House
to get a pitcher of water
to meet Her Mother’s Alarm
–
I was That Girl
“eight-going-on-nine”
Who wrote a letter of thanks
to The Valley Cottage Fire Department
“for saving Our Woods”
“I’ll never scratch a match again”
–
I was That Girl
praised by Her Former Kindergarten Teacher
met in the school hallway
The Letter was in the paper
Joanna Gilman Hyde 