death robbed him of his anonymity
in that
he did the opposite of what most of us find
that life is loud
and after that is silence
but in silence
he found perfection
I think the silence spoke louder
against an age he foresaw
did not particularly like
did not see why he should be part of
the barrier all writers build
between
their written and real selves
collapsed
read Hapworth 16, 1924
and tell me any difference, there is none,
walls collapsed
*
and in death do not expect revelations
respect the beauty of his choices
he remains one of the remarkable ones
though his skin was thin, his talent was strong
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