Poem: What is between bothers me

What is between bothers me

Not the the thing itself.
That is all fine,
but what fills up
all those spaces,
the gaps that are not empty,
that are chosen,
cast and clad
and to be quoted,
all of it a calculation,
I suspect, a game,
a strategy.  I sense that.
I do not appreciate it.
Too much that does nothing
but speak of itself,
but makes an argument
that should be implied
and not explicit.

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