The whole thing it is, the difficult
matter: to shrink the confines
down. To signals, so that I come
back to this, we are
small/ in the rain,
open or without it,
the light in de-
light, as with pleasure amongst not merely
the word, one amongst them; but the
skin over the points, of the bone.

from "The Numbers" J H Prynne


Blogger Mick said...

Where's this from?

1:27 AM  
Blogger Jess said...

Kitchen Poems.

9:06 AM  

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