c-note

I hate the word cunt. I hate
capitalism, cornucopia, crudité.
I hate Colonels Sanders and Mustard.
I hate creatives. Cock. Community
standards, collateral damage,
covert operations: I hate them
all. & Columbine. Caskets I hate.
Clubbiness, cowards, chemtrails.
Conspiracists, counterfeits, corn-
dogs, corporate greed. I hate coming
home or to Jesus. I hate catcalls,
callsigns, category fives & catch-22.
Core beliefs confuse me. Cupidity
& cocaine fill me with contempt as
certainly as Captain Crunch. It is
conceivable, of course, that I am
incapable of coping with cruel
circumstance–that what I claim
to hate is, chiefly, unconsidered
corporeality. The carnage of merely
being. But if correct, I cannot see it.