What About the Word Abyss?
Who could forget it? The night came on that way.
The fish shrugged out of their scales.
The mermen were left by the mermaids.
The men I threw into the abyss
stayed, sat on the floor of the dining room
with no furniture, pizza boxes,
and said that no one even says
abyss anymore, and left me
by myself in the drawing room.
But is it there anyway, unnamed?
Into what am I throwing these things—
the sunset, the surgeries, the scaffolding?
What could hold everything?