The Pain Poem by Laura Kasischke
The Pain
Like the human brain, which organizes
The swirls and shades of the bathroom tiles
Into faces, faces
With expressions
Of exhaustion, of disdain. The
Virgin Mary in the toast of course
But also the penance in the pain, and the way
My mother invented
Plums and tissue paper, while
My father invented the type of
Sudden kindness
That takes you by surprise
When you've expected to be chastised
And makes you cry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/2/2024 7:10:12 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Wonderful poem, Laura. Thank you for sharing