William Pryor Poems

Little coming he thought
what a jolly
to take the map
of heaven
...

There is nothing to say
but the words.
There is nothing to see
but the look
...

the universe
is a single turn
and my turn
is invisible to the naked I
...

how purpose sheds light

as moles ‘see' through
dank crumble
...

that no seam is visible
the joint: the web
...

on my cycle
headlight edges absence
- grass growing
in the middle
...

day keeps quiet
save the house's discourse. you say
how good to have me
at home
...

were I a stranger
- house not home
and meet myself
face inter-
...

the day
...

to write a poem
I sit, I face a window
frames some sky, swaying vegetables
an elbow, glimpses of hat
...