On Reading Selected Poems
Hill isn’t difficult as Donne
is difficult. (He is of course obscure;
that’s a given.) What he ís
is opaque as black plastic, or
Marmite in the delved parallels
enlisted to make enduring
utterance of a tortured exaction –
|||||||||but so disjunct,
so clipped, drily hemmed, so taut
his pages are ourselves
gazing, reflected as we read.
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