Unheeded In the Spread of His Name, Quaking

Unheeded in the spread of his name, quaking Through the knit brow cuddling the sombre eye Twice buckled into the couch of his yearning The mouldy cast of unsculptured hands, moulting In the surging sweaty cries' unexpected sigh Sooner lost than won with unrenewed longing Every day, every night in chastened haste, calling That one face, one hand trembling on bosomy thigh Through all the twigs of his knotty brooding Mighty log in the dismembered chips, raking In uneasy orgasms of a protracted lie The woman clasped in the memory revolting Fleshy hair to press, hovering nostrils, drinking In the incensing vapours, and that face a wry Screaming in the rubbing spasm, a bloody cursing All, all and more, and the biting shame, clawing Now at the name, silently growing, that shy Child of old hopefully shared and lingered moaning © T. Wignesan, 1960, first pub. in "Forum Academicum", University of Heidelberg, 1957 (from the collection: Tracks of a Tramp. Kuala Lumpur-Singapore: 1961)