How do you represent an infinite space? You rift on a catalogue. Take two lines from a translation of Borges. Between the lines insert more lines as if the poem could go on and on. You have something like the poem by Steven Heighton collected in Patient Frame which ends in this conglomeration
Those who sit on front porches, not in fenced in privacy, in the
erotic inaugural summer night steam.
Who redeem from neglect a gorgeous, long-orphaned word.
Who treat dogs with a sincere and comical diplomacy
Attempt to craft a decent wine in a desperate climate.
Clip the chin of consequence by letting others have the last word.
Master the banjo.
Are operatically loud in love.
These people, without knowing it, are saving the world
And there is on this second page of “Some Other Just Ones” following the words a panel of white space that offers the reader room to ruminate about saving the world and how many more just ones there may be.
And so for day 1103