Poem 157: A Weirder Pain

when you finally learn to suffer
it will be weirder pain
than any we, at present,
can formulate or name

it will begin at an alien discomfort
surely
at which point it would I imagine be of considerable
scientific value
to hook you up to a machine
capable of recording these things

since outward signs
may tell us nothing

when it dawns upon your conscience, at last,
the smoking skillet
of your avoidance
        initiating a period of elemental collapse

        (again, terra incognita for us all)


you will then be like a monkey in space
untethered
uncomprehending
of the forces
that lay their hands upon you

        your psyche
that vast and unexplored
and until now unactivated medium
for pain
will know shattering, spectacular, unknown colors
of pain
spreading lights, and towering
nebular forms
of regret
   
then you may be momentarily stretched
like a burning silver sail
that pulsates in the dun
air sublime
and is quickly vaporized
by the sun