The Hawk Living Room 6:00pm
I’m savouring the last vestiges
of Sun
with the end of My Beer
before Our Nor’ Easter
combines with Hurricane Sandy
to form the already famous “Frankenstorm”
of 2012 —
could The Election be postponed?
How pleasant that was
having Eliza bring out Her Laundry Basket
to fold Her Clothes beside Me
as We both sat on The Stoop
listless in The Afternoon Light
— no wind —
mild enough for bare feet or socks
while We imagined what kind
of House Wife She would be:
“Better than You,” She said
I said, “So rich You would have a maid”
“So rich I could micro-lend
to poor women in Saudi Arabia”
My Big Black Super Cat Astro
is sprung from My Right Shoulder
like The Head of The Beautiful Dark Haired Woman
Who told Me nineteen years ago Today
in The Most Melodious Voice
I had ever heard:
“You Know The Meaning Of Life
& So You Are A Star —
so go to sleep”
The Hawk West Desk Window 10:22pm
I was That Ballet Dancer
twirling madly in any psychiatrist’s fantasy
exposing My 101 Split-second Facial Expressions
aimed at an imaginary upper corner Camera —
or was It Imaginary?
in a room of no furnishings
except for one rubber mattress
repeatedly blanketed over
by Me
to grow a garden
of hair & spit
before My Assemblage
got
WRECKED-ified
The Hawk Portico 5:00pm
Boy am I glad I got
My Canadian Citizenship
— at first I thought
I had to relinquish My American
but I didn’t —
so I got My Canadian in 1995
I call My Self a Dual Citizen
Born American
Canadian By Choice
and as a Canadian, under
the provisions of the Citizen Act and,
as such, [am] entitled to all the rights
and privileges and [am] subject
to all the duties and responsibilities
of a Canadian Citizen
The Hawk Portico NOON
When I hear The Squawk of The Jay
It stirs something in Me
some nebulous touch of nostalgia
I cannot put My Finger on
It has something to do with My Childhood
or My Growing Up
solitary in Valley Cottage
maybe in The Backyard Woods —
I had few friends:
one kooky one
Who always chanted “Hyde Hyde —
Take Me Outside”
when I was happy to oblige
after some pretend reluctance
Joanna Gilman Hyde 