party at hate beach

Hate, in short,
is a punk-ass beach, flocked
to by moral and intellectual
weaklings who display their enervated,
attenuated sham strength in pose-downs,
their bathing trucks and suits constantly
slipping, often lost entirely in the surf -
leaving them puny and nude before the world!
Still crowing about their superiority
as they desperately grope for sandy towels
(hating the sand on their naked skin!),
as normal people in the sections
to either side love it. Not

out of schadenfreude! Well,
most of us. They love it
because love loves hate
to be revealed and shown,
in all its failed and flaunted glory. Love knows

it’s no competition! Hate needs
ignorance and deep shadow
to hide in and thrive,
breeding in the margins.

We feel bad for all the strutting, ugly
fools of course. We pity them,
like Mr. T would.

But we feel great
for all the innocents
and “undecideds,” seeing
such weak display - and naturally

revolting from it.

Revolution is a revolting process.
It grows out of revulsion
- and away from it,
on stronger, cleaner paths
upward.

The fact is,
hate is one of the most glaringly,
obviously weak
and ignorant things
a person can do. That’s a truth
each of us can easily find
for ourselves, if we look.
In the current phase of humanity,
social media etc., hate
is not growing stronger.
It is not grown more prevalent.
Its prevalence wherever it has always been
- is now being more and more inexorably exposed.

Hate has a hard time finding shade and concealment
now. For within its ignorant ranks
are so many fools who think it’s right.
And they stride forth onto that beach
and prance, as their wiser, more wrinkled elders
(whose wisdom consists in knowing why they hide)
wince, and cover their eyes. Knowing display

makes hate look horrible.

Well it is horrible.
What do they expect?