Here I sit withinthe portals of painweek in, week out regurgitating for analysis platitudes and banal musings,merging with heightened scenes of abject miseryin Cudever more synchronizedrhythms . . . throwing upand out.  choking,gagging on noxious memories,each time transposing them,centering into manageable feelings.Like a spotted cowgrazing on green grasses,vomiting cud,only to chew it againand regurgitate once more . . .On through four stomachsuntil, at long last,they are voidedinto a smoldering wretchedheap upon the grasscow-tippers seek to avoid,and ignore. –the pain finding its manifest shape and scopeto be tucked into a cornergathering dust,buried in forgetfulness,inspired by exhaustion.