A Star, and Some Debris?

You get some credit from me
for attempting to break the stalemate
by leaping up out of the argument

and re-entering from a fissure
in your enemy’s chain mail logic.
You get some credit from me:

I, too, despise confrontation,
and the moderator’s smug rejoinders
are worse than the morning sun

when you’re only just getting home
or meeting a girlfriend who spurned you
and now wants, of all things, a hug.

Most of all, you put me in mind
of the sacred gadflies of our history
who turn the destructive force

of presumption against itself -
and I always welcome reminders
that anything can get better.

All of these things I grant you,
and you get some credit from me:
but what if the only results

you get for your stab at irony
are a crib death for pure dedication,
and another epoch of stone?