Thursday, November 11, 2010

Poem: Killing Guilt

War rips apart a soldier's soul. We are corrupting our youth by sending them off to not one but two senseless wars. Paying lip service to veterans grants no license to psychologically mangle our younger generations.

This was recently published in CounterPunch.


Killing Guilt

the blood on his hand was smiling,
but it wasn’t there,
or below his eyes like war paint.

there was a war but now
he works in a grocery,
avoids the meat department,

showers every morning
with lots of soap, leaves no zone

sometimes the suds
whisper or twist,
not quite human but familiar,

a hint of grimace,
the sort that stretches sinews
in the mind.

he hears them snap,
recognizes the muzzle laugh,
but it washes away

in the shower—

and he goes to work
in a yellow vest,
never looks at the steaks,

the truth leering
from the fat strips
and the red.


  1. Wow, haunting, chilling, poignant, thank you for sharing.

  2. Hi Robin, I am thrilled that you found my blog! As a Maine poet, I can say that you have been a wonderful leader and powerful literary voice in our State. We're lucky to have you.

    Thanks also for you kind words about my poem. It means a lot to me.