Aiming high, ending low

First Things considers the poet who heads the Social Security Administration, and one of the works cited is especially pleasing when contemplating some of the breast-beating, holier-than-everyone types one encounters in life:

The sonnet “On Remembering Your Funeral Was Today,” for instance, seems to be composed entirely of darkness. When I first swore to tap-dance on your grave, it begins, and ends this way:

For while my daily rage maybe diminished,
I assure you we are still not finished.
I bet by now you have stolen time
To edit The Beginner’s Guide to Hell.
I trust you’ve cheated Charon of a dime
And somehow brought a blush to Jezebel.
I see you basting in satanic slime
Before deep-frying in your cockroach shell.