between beat 3 and beat 1 (waltz)

there is no approaching



infinity, nothing



taught



or finagled in



roots and the bodied. divining



link and



link invert and



whether letters push



   hollow air or beads



   of jowl. it could



be emerald—be,



could emerald!



or should not—should



have



been infuriated



since wu. for leibniz



   the people



applauded



and fucked



and the lake



was not



placid at all. axes



shift disbanding



salaciousness and there



   is device



that steals



from the magpies



—push



gdp,



   make usefulness



   smaller, no one



wants to see it, it



is indecent. it reeks



of boredom and



   fuck you, john, who



   was ever bored?



try and ask—