Anything visible, and
anything that can be grasped by thought,
is bounded.

Anything bounded is finite.
Anything finite is not undifferentiated.
The boundless is called Ein Sof, Infinite.
It is absolute undifferentiation in
perfect,
changeless
oneness.

Since it is boundless, there is nothing outside of it.
Since it transcends and conceals itself,
it is the essence
of everything hidden and concealed.

Since it is concealed, it is the root of faith
and
the root of rebellion.

As it is written, "One who is righteous lives by his faith."
We comprehend it only by way of no.

Hunger and Desire grew
'til bellies everywhere were
ruined for sustenance,
so in went the troops to wage
war against ideas and
when they arrived there were no
soldiers to speak of

so they set up tents
and didn't go away

they sang drunken war-songs
until the moan of starvation bellies
sang louder and more terribly

"That must have been them
the whole time!" they said, and
suited up for the charge.
So they trained their shells at the city
excited to see if target practice
had done them any good

but all they did was mortar themselves to bits

squadrons of video-game experts
sent drones overhead to drop
Hallmark cards titled "Why it's your fault"
and coupon booklets for American
chain shopping outlets to come

but they only marginalized
and condescended themselves

"Bring in the reinforcements!"
they cried, even conscripting
their hapless targets. This mob,
too, was a hungry belly
bellowing for satisfaction,
a cannibal ***
simmering

So they set up tables and stacked
boring paperwork, filing away
spirits broken by shrapnel and white
phosphorus

but they only resigned themselves
to imaginary lines and the plunder
of Control, insensibly
****** themselves to death

while they watched,
perplexed.