What is it about the Abyss <br />that tempts the young poet to kiss <br />the air and head for the nearest cliff? This <br />unreasonable attachment to the bliss <br />of falling -- what accounts for it? Unlike the hiss <br />announcing a reptilian presence, the word Abyss <br />creates the object of our dread: it exists, it is, <br />widening like the gulf between whis- <br />key and wine, and we, drunk on neither, miss <br />the days when we, too, tumbled headlong out of heaven, pissed<br /><br />David Lehman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/june-19/
