Hate

My body is corroded

My speech is hot

Bubbling over

like a immigrant jumping

Walls

At the channel lips.

Hands that pray to become

Hawk’s claws lined with

Venom

Rip into my enemy

Or, as is more often the case

To burrow through

The thin waxy barrier

Of me

And scar and burn

My own selfish

Tissues

The only part that

weeps.

Can hate sustain alone

A man with such short sight?

Can it hit hard and quick

Then pull back to grin

To snap its glory?

At last it slows

But only to revel in

Romantic bile

Relax your neck

It will be here a while.