My bachelor’s thesis, 50 years ago,
compared three misanthropes in English lit.
I remet Fielding’s hermit, got to know
Greek Timon, and read Gulliver’s emit.
The first and second came to hate their kind
when fortune failed and former friends forsook,
but Swift’s creation had his change of mind
from lectures, like from classes or a book.

Before the ink on final draft had dried,
I understood while bitterness can live,
objective hate must end in suicide –
a Gulliver should go, lest he forgive.
You claim to be an antinatalist –
a hypocrite persisting to exist.