What Nature Does With Pain

The best stuff always starts
with a grain of truth,

be it the tiniest blood-drop
of a dinosaur's life
carbonized and compressed
until nothing's left
but blazing eternity;

or be it a thumb-sized dingleberry
from the bottom of the cat tray
that inadvertently strays
on your jaunty stroll
to the recycling bin,
slips and slides rolling
into the storm drain,
a turdish U-boat shrinking
desiccated by salten soaking
for weeks at sea
until a single
irritating remnant
slithers down some clam's
proto-esophageal tube
slipping like a sharp
and bitter spike between
slime and shell.

The faceless animals
all agreed it was hell.

Where the pain begins
the pearl grows fat.