A Broth of Acquired Emotions

In the course 

of the day

there is a glut 

of emotions ingested 

The grumbling of waking 

to even the sweetest alarm 

the reluctant resolve 

to face the day 

Sleepwalking through the ritual 

using the barest minimum of thought—

out the door, into the car,

praying for a drive devoid of event 

A successful, uneventful drive 

The usual parking spot 

The walk into the building 

elevator to 4, unlock the door 

Food and drinks to the fridge 

everything else on the desk 

Then the gamut begins—

coworkers, customers 

reliving the latest news and gossip 

ingesting joy, hope, despair, hatred 

bombarded by word‑images 

I think I might just explode one day

as the space within fills to capacity 

stretched thin by everything I’ve swallowed 

one more thing and something gives 

One more joyous event

One more sob story

One more political rant

One more broken heart — 

I will vomit out a word salad

thick with joy and sorrow

love and hate 

hope and despair — 

highs and lows 

all scrambled together

When the vessel finally overflows 

it won’t be rage or silence

but a spill of everything I’ve carried—

the sweet, the bitter, the half‑chewed stories 

the laughter that wasn’t mine 

the grief I never asked for 

A broth of acquired emotions

simmering past the edge 

Such are poems 

and other lies I tell 

© Ron Simpson Jr. 

August 31, 2026