"All the beautiful days,
all the beautiful days...."
And he died
with all the beautiful days
like a wishbone in his throat.
Two passers-by stopped and looked:
How did his eyes become like that?
They became bleached blue with liquor madness.
How did his face get so torn up?
He often fell but was not dead.
And old, why is he so old?
Because he fought with every single day,
and each day's victory was notched into his face.
from Sunfire (Dedalus Press, 97)