There are empty spaces we make
and empty spaces we growaccustomed to, as though they were always
there—a gold mine you can descend an hour intoby elevator before reaching its network
of tunnels—or always will be,as in the photosynthetic capacity of trees
to absorb carbon dioxide into their diameter, their height.As a forest is torn down, as it dries out, dies off,
the trees that are left won’t absorb as much carbonas they used to. Studies show them storing less, fitting less
into themselves. The trees are falling downon the job, as they say,
then we say. The shareholders sayingthrough us, from inside us. And we cannot
squeeze into tree cells to enlarge them by pushing outwardin all directions at once, like da Vinci’s sketch
of the proportions of the human bodyaccording to Vitruvius. A sketch of a man
over a sketch of the same man with arms and legsat different angles, so as to cover as much of the circle
and square as possible. A sketch depicting the ideal formthat leaves little room for much else.