Portraits of hatred 2

His words were violence

Indiscriminately sprayed
into the crowd
Hammering into the walls

His guts churned with hurt
His eyes brimmed with lost pride

He found it hard to fire a sentence
without detonating a Fuck
or sending a Cunt to set ears ringing

He was harmless enough

Probably

But he brought peace
crashing around the ears
of those who heard him speak

If he couldn’t rest
nor would anyone else

The explosions
sent from the end of his tongue
scattered shrapnel
Incandescent and jagged
into every beating heart
Killing joy
and tearing goodness to shreds

He smiled as he closed each oratory
sensing a job well done
Feeling satisfied within the confines of his pain

He wasn’t smashing glasses in faces
or torching cars by the railway tracks

But quiet suburban living rooms
felt the hot shards of his verbal attacks