Me and my journal
Got those old country blues.
Turns out,
White hot heat
Doesn’t make
for a 'Brown River, Smile'.

So,
    I cried some.

Then bought eggs. And flour.
And sugar. And butter, for cake

    And made one.  

Because young life during hard times
In old country
Isn’t left with much else
to do–

    Just make something beautiful
    And hope to get through.

When the baker bakes the baked bakery bakes,
Do they also bake the recipe required?
What's the recipe for a poem?
Does the poet pen the poetical poem poetically to pen their pretty poems?
What temperature do you bake ink-
To make it a bestseller?
How much baking powder do you bake into a page
To perfect its pagey turny pageiness?
What kinda poem crust does a poem become encrusted in?
Should it crumble?
Should it rhyme?
Should it cry a melodrama so dramatic that drama llamas like “that too much drama!”?
Wait,
Where did drama llama come into this?
Who else is in the kitchen cooking this poem pie?
Is the poem pie perfectly pied in its drama crust?
WAIT-
we forgot about the filling…
What do you put in a poetical poem pie?
Should I peach the pied poem?
The peaches plumpy peachy smile?
(i’m not sure how the drama llama feels about that)
Should I fill the peachy pied poem with orange and lemon citrus ?
A little bit of snazz to the snazzy apple pie.
Crap, I forgot the apples as well.
Well now my peachy pied lemony apple-orange poem is too long!
And i still don’t know what temperature to torch these thoughts at!
Well the pied piper pipes in that maybe my peachy pied poem needs some pepper
To pipe the spice to pied poem levels!
But lemony apple-orange peachy pied poems with pepper seems a touch peppery for simple pied poems to be.
But who ever said a poem pied can’t have spice and everything nice WITH lemon and apple and orange and peachy fuzzy smiles?
So,
My peachy peppered pied lemony appley orangy poemy is piping hot to boot.
Now i just need to figure out whos gonna eat the **** thing.

Cooking is
The mastery of intuition
It is knowing, smelling, tasting perfection
Before the simmering soup completes its wearisome journey
It’s love

He received a candy cloud that contains ‘L. O .V. E ‘
shaped smile.

She then turned on an electric
sky oven.  Autumn baking mode: +/- 272x

Havent you agreed with “(M&M)Theorem states?
…
The cream + the skim milk would bring the same price as the whole milk

Only if there were no costs of our separation …

Wound with joy and cheer
Unaware of the danger near
Moments away
Racing mind, rather absent
Hurry, hurry, hurry-!
Outcry echoes throughout the space
What searing pain
Heat from surface to flesh
Red as ripest tomato
Forming spots of pale white
Oh dear, what plight

- Jay M
January 8th, 2021

I stand in the kitchen
not really present
talking about baking potatoes
with my husband.

For a second
the girl who baked potatoes
in so many other people's kitchens
looks out of these woman's eyes
awed at the fact
that she can bake potatoes
in her own kitchen.

In that instant the woman
receives as a gift
the incredible pleasure
of baking potatoes
in her own kitchen,
and is grateful.

I burned my hand making Christmas cookies
for my small chosen family-
hoping that it is enough to thank them
for keeping me from falling headfirst
and loosing myself to my own mind.