What do you think when you kill a man?

Nothing, as crosshairs move to the next target.
Nothing, that night when you’re sunk in your hole,

ears focussed for the prick of noise.
Nothing at week’s end back at base,

head filled with rum, The Stooges and The MC5.
Nothing next month, when your round comes

and one of his mates knocks you over.
No, years later, when you’re kicking the ball

to your son, you think “What if he … ?”