The Apple Pie Mindset

“Write a poem about how emotions are stupid”

I begin – on a crawling, uncalibrated distance
in a cowardly morning that grumbles away
in my numb dimness- unlatched from sleep.

because memories spilled my dreams
like the icy veins of snowflakes crying
and my tongue and skin go blind like iron.

My head teasing ragged melodies-
echos from last night’s smoldering sleep
like an apple pie unbaking on my pillow.

I begin unsteady because I feel,
the world, the touchless sunlight, the morning
is an ether that stretches my limbs like pretzels
encrusted with falling salt, unscraped by hunger.

when weather digs dreams in the doughy soul-
every morning the lush, sanitizing waking.