Where am I going with this pain
Marvellous for a lot of things
– for climbing walls
– and crawling scalps
– for leaving the moment
out of pure desperation
But with my mind packed up,
where do I go?

to a church?
No the church is full of glassblowers
this pain is not fragile enough
for their pursed lips to blow

to a butcher?
No there they have red hands
this pain is too raw and lonely
for their sharp blades to cleave

to the town hall?
No the town hall echoes with excuses
this pain is too forgetful of its host
for apologies

So I took it to a bridge
And half way out –
with the prospect of somewhere to go –
that crazy pain jumped!
And I went in after it
believing that even this death
should not go
uncompanioned