I hab Ma Bon Jobi
I hab ‘im ebby day
He make Ma Moon Come Up
He make Ma Sta’s Come Out
He be wib Me
when Dat Sun go down
He be wib Me
in Da Monin’
He make Ma Clock go roun’
He be Ma Bon Jobi
I own
H’ass
Where Am I
in The Shadow of The Deck
upon My Neighbour’s Wall?
–
Where Am I
amongst The Flies
hordes
which by fortune
do not alight?
–
I Am Here
in The Moon
glowing pink
into gold
not to be smudged out
by a wafting fog
illuminating My Aura
We’re in a Catch-22
& 22 is The Number That Guides Me
Today I Watched The Spray
from My Shower Animate
The Fabric of My Wash Cloth —
am I giving too much away?
I’m dressed in Baby Blue Puma Shorts
White Linen LL Bean Tank
Ancient Sandals
from The Yarmouth Hospital
3 Silver Bangles on My Left Wrist
Silver Hoops from My Ears
Rings of Gold
upon My Hands
& My Stainless Steel Open Heart Bulova Watch
around My Right Arm
I will row now with The Voodoo Pains
on the right side of Me —
where The Beautiful Dark Haired Woman
appeared on My Right Shoulder
saying,”You Know The Meaning Of Life
and So You Are A Star —
so go to sleep”
–
I will row now
I have dreamt The Dream
of a Life Time
here in this darkened Back Room
behind a room
of Hospital #1
–
David —
I have come
to The Core
of The Matter
–
It Is Black
but Not Deadly
The World Ended
for a sprinkling of ants
poured out from a Root Beer can
I picked up Today
@ The Base of My Painting
EMBLEM FOR THE GROWTH OF SILVER
@ The Side of Highway 3
teeming through
My Barrington Passage
Sobey’s Parking Lot
in Barrington Passage
has a yellow sign
with red letters afixed
to Its Central Cart Corral:
“In The Event of An Emergency
Gather Here”
–
Twice Now I Have Thought
of Standing There
To Signify We Are
In The Social Emergency
of Our Existence:
We Should Be Gathering
Our Female 13-17 age group
Our Female 55-64 age group
Our Male 45-54 age group
I wrote A Book once
of 364 pages
describing The Illness & Death
of My Mother
& what happened to Me
after four days of no sleep —
sleep deprivation induced by Death:
The Shower of Lights
Seeing The Meaning of Life
Fixation Upon a Little Man
induced by The Telepathic Message:
“Joanna, the reason I am not answering Your Calls
is that I am at home, in the same condition
You are in — Yes We are reading Each Other’s Minds —
and no one knows what’s going on —
there is no expression for Love Divine
but this is as close as We can come…”
My last words to Him were:
“David, I am shredding My Manuscript —
all 5 copies, & The Shredder
is getting overheated —
It keeps quitting every 20 minutes
giving Me Pause For Thought”
–
Hint:
One Surviving Copy
may be somewhere
in The Vermont Farm House
of My Widowed Stepmother
Who assures Me
It’s Somewhere
Joanna Gilman Hyde