These hatreds I feel towards you
since you're rich and good looking
and lucky; enough to have my envy
in your packed pockets too

What comfortable shoes you wear
strolling magnanimously through
my imagination my inflammation
my constitution my restitution

Yet you sit in your small space
and wonder at my accusations
wonder at your own perniciousness
and why you haven't recognized it before

it's that you lack imagination specifically mine
it's what writes you in and out of confusion
it's what gripes you into roles so guilty you may as well
resign now and admit I've got you