Attempted Poetry Monday

I try to post poems I like or poems that strike me as interesting on Thursdays. This poem is neither. However, I think it could win a Most Tortured Metaphor award. Which is too bad, because Molly Peacock is a really cool name.

The Land of Tears

You can stop in the spot you're already in
and enter the Land of Tears. It takes
a liquid thought inside the tin
mixing bowl of the brain pan, full of aches
from the scraping of your mind-spoon to make
the journey of the ingredients, the batter
that you turn out into a pan and bake
back into your old self, now new matter,
all because of that liquid thought mixed up
with your dry milled existence. Curiously
simple tears stop the furiously
churned air, as a door opening up
stops an argument. You know what you meant.
As, after a rain, the air is brilliant.

-Molly Peacock