What you don’t see is not necessarily not there


                              I
 
 
Take out the caked grimy faucet plug
Let those unseen crawlies dive and duck
                                      under the rust-ridden slime
               stuck to phlegm and saliva globs
        dried blood and flaky semen
               shot through with crap
 
      The seen and the unseeable
      The sane and the goneforsaken
 
This glob of virus    a syruppy eggdash
                got rid of in a hurry
                                       close your thoughts
   to the raw genital-vaginal whiff of public lavatories
           the brothel closets’ stained sticky sheets
 
  the stink and the dirt and the stinging hell
                                                 that comes from under
       pipes
              tanks
                     drains
                             sewers
                                      rivers
 
   all stuffed with fizzing
                       fuming water
                      cloacal wind
             and the aftershave lotion
 
Nothing that wouldn't burn forever
      when we all disappear
 
 
 
                                             II
 
Even if you slow your rhythm down to a stilled beat
                                                                                   at rest
    haven't you heard your blood
                  coursing through in a reckless lickety-split
       past the pinned ear in the pillow
 
The silence of the hour
                                       outside
  your pulse down to a twenty-five or thirty
                                                                     listless
cutaway from the clatterbanging engine within
     gushing
              whistling 
                        throttling 
 wheezing
         jerking
                cartwheeling
           shunting
                      beating a frenzied time
        racing round and round in a cataclysmic din
 
Whoever jams it all from the eye
          hears its thunderous roar in the cells
The cells that slither 
                                 creep
        and ooze
                                                     acidic enzymes
      down the washes of stuffed putrefying canals
 
This the great manufacturer
                                       of what oozes in lethean sewers
 
 
  
                               III
 
 
cell into cells
                  in the coursing blood
    the car jams
                     the myriad alleyway mazes of city cells
 
    heartless
                    traffic-lights
                                              valves that stop
       letpass   
                   white-red corpuscles
 
In the city's centre is the heartless pulsing leviathan
      and through the aorta highway
 
    everybody alights on a wc cuvette
                                                            and back
  through the ventricles   
       the carnival parade of
                   scabies
                             herpes
                                      spittle and slime
 
Die City
    Die like bodies
                                    and empires
        disease-clogged sewers
                                       funding plagues
                                                          pandemics
 
What is left from afar
             is a clouded-over scorched patch
    fossilised cellular forms under the microscope
 
Who cares after a thousand billion years
What went on during a trillion light years
                                                                     ago
I care You care We care
Do All ALL care
 
 
© T. Wignesan, Paris, 1986 – 87. Rev. 2012 (from the collection : longhand notes : a binding of poems, 1999).

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