Teufelsdröckh’s Closet
a universe hung
skin or
skein of
immaculate instantiation,
once bright jacketed
stars once
a firmament fit
now
left shut loose among others,
as though the dim and silence
between
all verses
need be worn
out
until new,
hanging
maybe on this line:
It is better to prevent misery, than to release from misery
better to press dear
necessity than
hang by a
thread—
even so
there’s this weave
of it all isn’t there?
I mean, I didn’t get
to this
without reaching
into a suit pocket and
finding some stars.
The italicised line is Blake’s from Jerusalem, Chapter 3: Plate 55. Please note there were a few formatting problems here. There will be a “cleaner” version of this poem available with the more correct spacing. prm.
