And to you, mad sire,
        who poisoned my founts of felicity
        ere they began to flow,
        I give sad adieu.
        May your maps to God
        on Sunday mornings
        guide you now to Heaven's
        ransom--not I...
        I weep for you who
        begat a monster,
        but I gather too
        your tears, who lost a son,
        and drink them with mine,
        a brew of bitter herbs,
        a first and last communion.
        Adieu, adieu,
        o mad and mighty stranger.
        Adios, adios;
        To God, to God
        I leave you
        to lead you
        from His Labyrinth.

        Memorial Day,
        May 30, 1969