guilt
al rogovin
Guilt crawls behind
my eyes on the job
while I guard
the construction site,
listen to the generator
churn
and do my time.
Tonight I can’t forgive myself
for killing and murdering
or cheating
On my way back home
the sun rises gray
from the wrong direction
as worms crawl onto wet and shiny
morning pavement
for good guiltless sex
to die this
Ford F-150 death.
