World machine

The universe is essentially made out of nothing.
Intervals, distances, holes, an ethereal lace.
In short, empty space.
The rest is matter.

Thus, this shudder,
this calling it and holdind it, this lifting it and facing it,
this vein of nothing opening into the void
must be an interval.

António Gedeão*

* Literary pseudonym of Rómulo de Carvalho

http://www1.fis.uc.pt/museu/poemaing.htm


This poem reminds me of the cube of space our stage is occupying. The inbetween world of the void. mmm ethereal lace....