Hate is Such a Lovely Word

Hate is such a lovely word
When conferred upon a lonely man
Who sits atop a lonely hill
And watches watchers waiting madly;
Waiting gladly for his fall
Teeth bared, blood lust, cancers all.

They hate him ‘cause he looks unlike them
Reeks of power in his control
Something wicked listens paltry
(He is us though they are not he)

Given no more than an inch
They recoil from being benched
But all fault lies with them because
There’s never been a thought of love
Yet hate rains fire from above
And below and all sides round he
Weathers storms upon him hove

He smiles upon the ware wolf horde
‘cause hate is such a lovely word
When conferred upon a lonely man
Who right the wrongs too vast to number
Then sits to service without slumber
And wears their vengeance like a badge

Two Desks

Two desks sat in a hall
each with its own color and tone
both in their boxes again
though this wasn’t the case earlier when
I had them uncased and they were compared
to other specimens in my home.

But they didn’t really compare
since they came from different worlds
Or did they compare?
Confusion sets in.
Does any of it matter anyway?
This process has more
back and forths
than any tennis match.

How many times did I seal them up
only to slide the knife down their box’s spine
and expose them to the air once more?
It’s so easy to forget
what something looks like
once it’s taped up in our memory.

But now I’m quite sure
neither of these will work
so it’s back to searching
for the perfect shade of veneer.