To Hate

I was no more than three

When I learned to hate.

I spat out bananas, green beans and Brussel

Sprouts. I banged my rattle

When the room was too hot, when the

Tall man came to visit or when the music

Stopped. I cried, I wailed

Tore at my collar when the Tall Man

Made my mama holler.

I was no more than seven

When I learned to hate everything.

I rolled my eyes in church, school, at my mama.

I cursed the Tall Man, The Fat Man, and the Yellow

One too, that came slithering out of the shadows

To sink their claws into me.