"O heart, small urn 
 of porphyry, agate or cornelian, 
 how imperceptibly the grain fell 
 between a heart-beat of pleasure 
 and a heart-beat of pain; 
 I do not know how it came 
 nor how long it had lain there, 
 nor can I say 
 how it escaped tempest 
 of passion and malice, 
 nor why it was not washed away 
 in flood of sorrow, 
 or dried up in the bleak drought 
 of bitter thought." 
 If this passage doesn't grab you, you're probably not going to be drawn in otherwise. Very surreal; crystalline images; very strange spiritualism at moments (some over the top, yes). But moments of astonishing honesty, deep-cut affect. Read this in undergrad & was too banal to even try to "get" this, but it's just wonderful.