Hate for Human Bone

I don’t know you,

But, I hate you!

I hate you, your mother, your father, your neighbor.

I wish you gone but you refuse to do the world that favor.

I hate your hands, and I hate the poorness of your lands.

I hate the look in your children’s eyes I see on my lap.

I hate your voice in songs and prayers oozing out like sticky sap.

I hate the way your belly swells.

I hate the sound your bare feet drag like clunky bells .

I hate the way you sit there with your stupid sign.

If only you’d work as hard as I work for mine.

I hate your language I hate your God.

I hate their cries when I beat you dead with rods.

I hate your lover I can’t stand you kiss.

I hate your pride and strive for that and this.

I hate the way you work all night.

I hate the way your leaking breast invades my sight.

I hate your courage to row endless blue.

If only you’d drown before they rescue you.

Then I wouldn’t have to read about you.

Think about you.

So take this copper and leave me alone,

To scrap and savor, the juice of this tender human bone.