The Hawk Kitchen 7:38pm
The Universe is incubating
in My Red Teflon Frying Pan
I have dished out & up
all I am made of
& now it is up
to the stars
to see if I work
The Hawk Kitchen 2:42pm
I see A Zillion Suns
swirling in My Spaghetti Sauce
Frying Pan
They’re speeding up as They approach
My Wooden Spoon
floating
then taper off
taking
forever
to
stop
The Tomato-coloured Couch 7:39pm
I’m seeing The Universe again
this time on the behind
of My Navy Blue Long Johns
static-y with cat hair
globules of fuzz, lint
& God knows what all
The Tomato-coloured Couch 1:45pm
The Universe is Female
shaped like a laundry basket
with one side sloped in
to go over a hip
emptied into
The Male Design of Machine
only to be filled
again
The Hawk Deck 3:00pm
I Have Seen The Perfect
Nautilus
Within My Universal Vision
— the sink It was —
Showing Me The Perfect
Form Of Reproduction
& Through My Chaos
of hand-washing
I Diffused The Spiral
Only To Let It
Re-set
in ever-smaller
smatterings
The Hawk Kitchen 8:53pm
Today I was instructed
to “Be The Artist You Want To Be”
— I AM —
I see pieces of The Universe
in sink pans
laden with the makings
of Fully Formed Galaxies
so much so that I
am One Of These
I am A Galaxy morphing
into The Rest Of The Universe
& I Love It
The Hawk Window Seat 2:44pm
I Took My Shower
@ 2:22
I Was in There
For Untold Minutes, Hours, Days
I Am Still There
Rubbing My Eyes
Like A Child
Who Sees The Spray
Of The Universe
The Hawk Kitchen 9:15pm
The Pink Residue
of My Husband’s Berries
& Ice Cream
lining His Dark Ceramic Bowl
poised to go into
The Emptied Dishwasher
is no longer a dirty dish
but A Modulated Receptacle
filled with One
Gigantic
Universe
The Tomato-coloured Couch 7:50pm
My Body is My Universe
have I said this somewhere else —
outside of My Self?
My Body is all I know
for sure
of My Existence
exposed & exposing
galactic patterns on My Limbs
My Torso
My Intelligent Cells
work wonders of upkeep
circulating
even when I sleep
The Hawk West Desk Window 6:15pm
When I Go To Sleep At Night
I Think Of All Of Humanity
Swarming Over The Globe
Half Of Them/Us
Asleep In Acres Of Bedding
Each Speck A World To Itself
Unique In Its Make-up
Unique In The Life It Lives
Like The Configurations Of Galaxies
In The Petri Dish
Of Our Universe
Joanna Gilman Hyde 