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What you do not see is not necessarily not there

T Wignesan Avatar T Wignesan - LIFETIME Premium Member T Wignesan - Premium MemberPremium Member Send Soup Mail  Block poet from commenting on your poetry

Below is the poem entitled What you do not see is not necessarily not there which was written by poet T Wignesan. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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What you do not 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-******l 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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