The Pain by  Laura Kasischke   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