apple pie talking

in my american voice 
i say i want to talk about sweetness. 
there is a gun in the oven
or is that a bun or is that 
a christ figure? i used to take a bus
into a recipe card. i never had
a sugar grandmother. instead 
she bought soap in the shape of gods.
washed herself until she was only bone.
i want to eat everything with a scoop
of vanilla ice cream by which i mean
you never called me back.
the supermarket is a cathedral 
if you open you mouth
& close your eyes. apples from 
the center of the earth. i have a weapon
as a uterus. i have a mailbox
full of little fires. i have tried
to be a son more than once to no avail.
called a representative & heard 
bird calls on the other line.
i say, "i want you to stop killing my friends."
passing the receiver to elevator music beings. i wait 
& wait & a child picks up. says,
"i think you have the wrong kind of hope." 
swallowing the pie whole
is the only way to get it down. 
this is not a good place. this is 
a murder commercial. buy one history 
get another one without asking.
there are no leftovers. there were
never any leftovers. i licked
the tin clean.