In the mornings he went hunting,

perched in tree branches

to target a village chief


And what does he do now

this man who went hunting

for men he learned to hunt

as though they were not men

when there are no more men

to hunt?


And what meaning does it give

to this man now to say

as he once said to himself

sliding a round

into the polished chamber,

breathing the fume

of gun oil, cordite

and precision,

“One bullet, one kill”?


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