<div><p><i>Null Set</i> collects the slightly obsessive possibilities that rise when we give them the space—odd jobs, trouble-making, and farm boy rambling, all in dialogue with mathematics, or William Faulkner, or other poets.</p><p><b>From &quot;Hypotenuse&quot;:</b></p><br><p><i>HYPOTENUSE<br>I write three, erase it, blow rubber<br>shavings from the desk. Write its notation,<br>erase it, blow shavings. Then three 3s</i></p><p><i>erased, shavings blown, persist<br>for the nonce, three of nothing, nowhere<br>attending to discrete objects for counting,</i></p><p><i>themselves objects at any rate. To kiss,<br>sleep, and focus we know to close<br>our eyes, imagine. I do, see nothing.</i><br></p></div>