Poem about the Kent State Shootings of May 4, 1970

 Here's one of the poems I've written over the years about the Kent State shootings of May 4, 2022:

Close to My Heart

Kent State University

May 4, 1970. 12:24 PM

Forty-three years ago today,

National Guardsman’s bullet,

shot 293 miles from my college dorm,

blew through my chest, landing at my heart

where it remains today. The Doc said,

“It’s too dangerous to remove. You’ll have to live

with the chronic ache.”

That day, while my cousin Maggie ran through a fog

of teargas to the Theatre Building, and high school friends 

watched from the corners of trees and buildings,

Guardsmen, not much older than me, bayonets fixed--

then: sixty-seven shots ring out on Blanket Hill.

Four dead, nine others wounded, untold traumatized,

Guardsmen and students alike. I, with pericardium, 

peri-anima trauma,

called up Mom and Dad, back in Euclid,

Crying and yelling at them, total innocents,

for being . . . what? . . . adults, easy targets

for my pain.

Hope they forgave their hurting son,

hope the pain around the hearts of Ohioans,

Kent Staters, Americans,

hope the pain

heals.

Robert M. Coughlin / May 4, 2013