Empty Space

David Eingorn

There is a suspension (without a bridge)
in the first line of the first dream song by John Berryman. It reads,

“Huffy Henry hid  the day.” Berryman tumbled over.
But this declension before death
A furrow of ground challenging
the living to plant it.

Describe it
as the end of the line before the end of the line.
A whitewash of troubles
ideas crashed into the empty space like cars in a demolition match,
or faulty trapeze artists somersaulting in between and down, or divers in shallow water,
or drunks on ice

skidoo, skidoo, & skidoo.

Before every letter and the next, there is a crack of space, and between every word

without exaggeration

never to be patched

because, as science tells us,
the universe is mostly empty space. And every silent street,
every empty home or apartment
is a clue.