My Generation

One by one I watched them jump
Off the edges of cliffs
With zeal at the going
And never return.

And oh! how these dressed up!
-- It was quite an event. The youths were there
Screaming there drowning voices
Like the gurgle of a whirlpool; the old men
Got pushed to the back, stamped into the dirt, but didn't care:
There time was come. In the crowd
A short weasel of a man, wearing an iron crown
Through his temples and thorns in his eyes
Sold voluminous bottles of liquer. It's best, he said,
If you drink up immediately before rising
Into the engulfing void. The liquor
Slides down your tongue, making it writhe
Like a burning snake, then your eyes cloud, your throat
Waters and sees
New things in your heart: precipitating down your throat
(Again, no need for muscles, the slow moving jaunt
Of the body escalator) and escalating, it hits your stomach, where
It diffuses from the core of your body to all of your heart, your lungs,
Your brain, broad back, down to your buttocks, your feet, your fingers,
Hair, toenails, nose, and eyes, until
Poised again on the tip of your tongue, through veins and arteries
Silently flowing, the whole of your being will scream
And you jump. Jump! Hurl yourself into the abyss, and do it loudly, with a screech,
A cry of wild volupty!

So I see the abyss was yawning. So I see
The wild clouds were riding the straits of the sky like the cliff
Was perched on the darkened gulf, a broad pillar
Of sucking madness. The greedy monster like a god
Engulfed them all, like a wink, like the blink
Of their own eyes, the fantastic vision
Of their mouth, and the empty screams echoing from below like the brink
Of their voice.