i'm thinking of different times when i've felt the call of the void. hungover with cognac and ghosts on a bus on cape cod. zoning out on the edge of the subway platform or the elevated. at the base of a lighthouse in a storm on an island in greece. laying down on the edge of a chasm in the shawnee forest with vultures hovering near. bottomless humiliations on various playgrounds. it comes from the french, but i'd know it anywhere, though every time it's in the gut, right here and now, looking down into the obamachron.