I hate wet feet
and well-done beef
hypocrisy, conceit.
I hate cold rain
and unearned fame
headaches, fever, pain.
I hate bad dreams
diminished means
and paranoiac schemes.
I hate clichés
the Roman Plays
all-you-can-eat buffets.
I hate pretension
blind convention
need I even mention
false contrition
salesmen on commissions
T.V. preachers
inept teachers
many-legged creatures.
And jello molds
and summer colds
viragoes, nags, and scolds
and income tax
and unjust acts
ad hominem attacks
and egoists
and narcissists
and also endless lists.

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This article originally appeared in The New Criterion, Volume 20 Number 9, on page 42
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