The Hawk West Desk Window 9:11am
My God is not The God
of honey & sunshine
butterflies & beetles —
My God is The God
of 9/11
Hard-hitting & Hard-core
The God of The Dark
through Which railing against
We find Our Heart-felt
Heart-beating Meaning
of Life
The Hawk Family Room 9:11am
I am seeing ahead of My Self
to The Time Of Linkage
between The Black Crow
hanging in My Living Room
floating on My TV Screen
veiled over by The Shroud
of My World Trade Center Roof Top Painting
titled Self Organizing Galaxy
The Hawk Portico 5:15pm
One year out of art school
I rose to stellar fame
— or tried to —
when I painted the roof
of The World Trade Center
& fended off The Director’s
romantic advances
He’s dead now
so I’m free to write
that I did NOT sleep My Way
to the top
that MY TOP has not been reached
yet
But It’s Going To Be
In My Lifetime
even if I have to die first
The Tomato-coloured Couch 6:45pm
I’ve come out
of Hyde-ing
in My Rose-Coloured Top
arms above My Head
holding up My Model Canvas
behind Me
like a stretched-out butterfly
“Artist On The Roof”
in lit-up red
with My Name
on The Plaza
of the Galactic
Pool
The Hawk Deck 11:35am
“We know that Two Planes
ran into The World Trade Center —
what else is true
We do not know”*
— overtaken by My Father
lumbering up the stairs
to My Shower
squishing used bars of soap together
His Noxema & Sensodyne
were not so innocent —
but That was only His Ghost
telling Me He was in cahoots
with The Muslims
in Riyadh
when He lived over there
for 25 years
before having lunch @ Windows On The World
with Guy Tozzoli & Me
where no mention whatsoever
was made of My
*quote from WHB
The Tomato-coloured Couch 7:15pm
I have traded in
My Thick Grey Robe
for dark grey Simon Chang pants
a white sweat shirt
with Star Man Pin
at My Throat
Nike sneakers
(I did check the mail)
all the better
to meet My Husband
when He comes Home
after 9:11
June 4, 2013 The Hawk West Desk Window 10:30pm
I Have Three Regrets:
ended up buried
& capped
in The Orangetown Dump
in Rockland County, New York
–
Five Copies
of My 364-page Manuscript Monument
to The Death of My Mother
ended up shredded
and put out by
the side of the road
here on The Hawk
–
The Third
was of My Body
and doesn’t fall within
This Category of Art
but the regret I feel
for this death
will never be acceptable
–
How Different Would My Life Have Been —
How Different From The Comparative Perfection
In Which It Is Lived NOW?
The Hawk Deck 9:32am
I have seen The Little Grey & Yellow Bird
open Its Beak, twice,
to sing Its Morning Tune
to fly away
& return
to chirp again
and so all is right
in My World
My Painting will lead The Way
to The Global Stabilization
We are awaiting
in Our Hearts
& Mind
The Tomato-coloured Couch 6:11pm
I had to interrupt cooking supper
to write about laying out
four plastic Canadian fifties
for My Daughter’s allowance
allowing enough for a sports bra
to buy on a trip to Halifax
with Her Boyfriend
— $200.00 bucks flat out —
I was struck by the recollection
of a roll of American twenties
wadded into My Starving Palm
counted out in the bathroom
of a Japanese Piano Bar in New York:
— $200.00 bucks tootsie-rolled
into a promise to be taken
to Korea to do an art project
but delivered in a Waldorf elevator
with the push
to accompany The Korean Minister of Defence
into His Room
where all I could do
was to declare
in plain English:
“There has been some mistake.”
Joanna Gilman Hyde 