can suppose

 Walden will be the collection of datoms
that we call a line.
It will become the outside.

From there in
the furthest distance from fringe
we'll weave an uneven million eschatons
into a normalcy through non-burdensome words.
Because none are more than a pathway
and the entire planet is paved.

We will attract inward, always
lessening the variables of our equations
until the soap box proclamations
sanitize the heavy public of those little squares.

I only meant that none could come lovelier.
Although she knew the angry laughter
of any woman worth her salt water
she never exceeded the meanness needed of wind.