My Vision.
I hate every body.
Just saying. Describing is what I'm doing. Doesn't matter:
race, sexual preference, state or nationality, north or south,
Canadian or points south, female, make. Trans or
impersonators great & small, the 1% or 99, rich
and poor, family, neighbor, colleague,
No body need take it personally
Hate is my ottom-line and fundamental
what it's like to be a part and not the whole
and why I can't Just Get Along, why I fear on
a regular basis, anxiety to panic variations of my
prodigious & prodigal experience.
Homeland Insecurity. Makes good sense. Got to keep
my borders intact. Un-encroached. Family jewels intact.
Besides that: my attention deficiency and ignorance is
monumentally generated by my natural selection: choosing
“this” and “ that” at the expense of all the rest, continually
ripping-off my terms of desire and significances from the
larger field, and mall, and community, and whole.
This can't be said in public and I put my original spin on it
and keep it covered with new clothes and exercise: I
read a lot—try and keep up with current events.
Have to.
If I want to fit-in.
Love is all we need and all we talk about when not
slapping my forehead in consternation and dismay
critically thinking about all them bastards. No one
loves a bad guy. What…are you kidding?
Charity begins in the home but Helen Hate is not allowed
in the kitchen let alone parlor.- not to mention Sophie's
hoist: stealing away the goodness, steal away,
steal away.
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