The Much

No nothing to it,
When you look at it,
Sniff and caress it.

The whole carnival
Dumbshow with outbursts
Of spin disruptions

Is thickly tied, tight,
The tiniest waves
Packed crest to trough,

No nothing in them.
The closest thing here,
In so much muchness,

To any nothing’s
Mere difference, change—
Every zero

Is just as a not
That but this, not this
But that. Not nothing,

And you feel it ache
In you—this intense
Absence of nothing.