ONCE, I SHOT A MAN RIGHT BETWEEN THE EYES
Following orders
on the battlefield,
it was kill or be killed
my sergeant said,
no different than
when he taught me
to thrust and parry
with fixed bayonet.
The young soldier
wore thick glasses
and looked a lot like
one of my classmates.
Sergeant claimed
Gooks don’t belong
to the human race.
Don’t ever feel sorry
for killing an enemy,
I can’t forgive myself.
I look down at my finger,
ready to squeeze the trigger,
and hear my mother asking:
What has become of you?