"The spider listens with her leg"

Spent most of this afternoon reading Elizabeth Willis'
'The Human Abstract'.

Take these lines, for an instance:


The work of love and the work of art

has no sleeping part

Is a drop of light

in a small silver socket,

a rosy dime

in a daylight tryst

(from 'A Maiden')

I'm really fascinated by Willis' web-like structures - how lines work in their own moment and resonate spun with echoes before and after. Receiving sounds. Sending sounds. And the whisper trembling through the lines of Emily Dickinson?

Breath-taking.