Tom Puetz’s Poetry
The Rain keeps coming More thick than strong Washing the chemical hurt from this hill Whose side we huddle on I release the reassuring pressure Of my fingertip on the trigger there I let loose my death grip Hug my weapon like a teddy bear I can’t say I feel safe More...
When you raise the call to war, no matter what the reasons, In the end, you break the heart, of the soldier for all seasons.
We’re sorry, we didn’t know about the death of tenderness,
the killing, the price paid, and … This Rage