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Poem Title:
Poem
          Corpus

                     in words 
designs 
             coloured structures   
  tones                                   movements
       all the multifarious ways of being savvy      earnest
                                                       of show-looking  in earnest
                                                              of believing in earnestness
                         of wanting to be thought of in earnest
            by being read thumbed 
     scrutinised       listened to in silence
                              
                    who shores up whose image

« when the feeling comes, I feel the need to go » … 
                                                                            Sekoto said
      looking into the guest with devouring Picasso eyes
       
   and yet his image bothered him
              his need to be felt useful        needed  
                                                      to be thought of as in the know
        no background to lay the usual foundation
    Ecole des Beaux Arts  
		Atelier in the Rue des Augustins
            no one to lean on to
     only the self-peddled jazz piano   a lolling pittance
        and the loud lingering death at the Maison des Artistes
     canvasses    stached away at some brocanteur’s junkyard
     

it matters to leave behind a corpus
     a bibliography firsthand original    right from the tréfonds
         long before  death 
   the diurnal deaths   
                      felled by dizzy spells
   
 some ex-librarian’s list of secondary source pieces
                         articles talks opening-day speeches conferences radio-interviews
                             tv declarations chapters-in-books edited revised --editions reviews biblios
             tertiary lists of critiques 
       unsigned TLS reviews        communications 
                what the editor said in memoirs of his peers

      not to have said enough is not enough

there will be those who will attribute what others have said to us

we have made provision for that
       we told so and so what the others have taken from us
                                             with a word carefully placed in the leeward of the ear
              while sitting in the din of the rear seat    words garbled gobbled by the exhaust beat

to have left behind a load 
    heavy with prizes pounds royalties titles
                                                    by the dozens  even scores
  definitive recapitulative editions in velours 
                                                                                             
       computerised translations         transvesti(t)es 
     
        through years of solitude sans sexe sans joie sans care may the publisher be
        
      forever loading to jettison 
the heavier the corpus the longer/longslower 
                                                                           the worm rot in the      
            mud   catacombs of staring accusing 
skulls  



From the privately-pub. coll. (rev. 2016) : longhand notes (a binding of poems), Paris : 1999, 115p.

© T.Wignesan - Paris
Fresnes, November 6, 1994
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