The Hater's Creed
Thou shalt hate thy fellow man, hate, pity
Paltry works of villeins, that like sown husks
Are less than the sum of their parts: no grace
To be found in those others, whose struggling
Grasping hands find nothing but air, whose eyes
Cannot see, whose hearts do not beat right in
Crowded chests.
You, of all, are the only one who has
Ever been, will ever be: you of all
Are all—eternal, unbroken though cracks
That beautiful amphora you call your flesh.
Your sable shell is the earth, still your veins
Run blue like one thousand falling dogs. All
Would follow your eyes because their whites
Shine supreme, not by beauty but by fact.
Your feet curve Vitruvian, are calculable:
Each part a facet that follows the other,
A thing in itself whose valence is proof
Enough of being—you, the only being.
Thou shalt hate. Thou shalt hate. Thou shalt hate: I
Bid thee hate. A thousand times over spill
Your venom: grow men who slaughter each other,
Birth a golden city; progeny in blood,
Thus, ever, a geometry of love.