My old hard friend, how you sought
Occasions of justified anger!
Who could buff me like you
Who wanted the soul to ring true
And plain as a galvanized bucket
And would kick it to test it?
Or whack it clean like a carpet.
So of course when you turned on yourself
You were ferocious.
II
Abrupt and thornproofed and lonely.
A raider from the old country
Of night prayer and principled challenge,
Crashing at barriers
You thought ought still to be there,
Overshooting into thin air.
O upright self-wounding prie-dieu
In shattered free fall:
Hail and farewell.
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