The Hawk Queen Bed 9:44pm
I have written words
I have painted pictures
I have never sung a song
Has there been enough
of Me?
When will The World stop
to assess My Persona
d’Artiste Extraordinaire
Who has yet to live
to Her Fullest Capacity
under the guise
of —
nothing
The Tomato-coloured Couch 7:30pm
There’s enough white
pick-up trucks
to go around
to everyone
like Me
Who doesn’t make a wish
but feels
security
in the white
mobility
of man-made
design
The Tomato-coloured Couch 4:22pm
I take My Medication
to keep My Power in check
otherwise I would not sleep
& I would be powering all over
the house
& out into the yard at night
& God knows where —
I would be unstoppable
& I would have to get apprehended
by The Mounties and/or ambulance attendants
to wind up in The Yarmouth Psychiatric Unit
where They would lock Me up
in the so-called “Therapeutic Quiet Room”
where I would pound & pound
& drum & drum on the steel door
until They came in & held Me
down
for an injection
against My Will —
It’s Black Power
of Which I Speak
The Tomato-coloured Couch 5:00pm
I Am Black Jesus
I Am Red, Yellow, Brown, White
Purple Is The Colour
Of My Massive Heart
My Hair Is A Rainbow
I Wear No Clothes
But Unlike The Emperor
I Know That I Am
Naked
The Hawk Corner Room 12:55pm
The Gulls Glint Silver
The Crows Are Silhouettes
I Look Out To The Hazy Blue Horizon
& Watch The Birds
As Symbols
Embedded In My Life
Of Perfection
The Tomato-coloured Couch 8:20pm
I opened My Kitchen Door
to the snow-laden deck
My Black Cat Astro sat
against the white
to think
— crossed the step —
I saw stars
on His Back
The Hawk West Desk Window 2:22pm
I have given up, for now
My Old Silver Towel
in-which I buried My Face
My Darkest Secrets
to smell instead
The Comfort Of Clean Gold —
My New Robe
Of Contentment
Joanna Gilman Hyde 