Being Right

"Bloody hell," he whispered
and was right
as bombs uncoupled knees
from his muscled thighs.

"Aw, shit," said the next man over.
He, too, was right,
since bullets had windowed his gut
to let in air and light.

The third man had one thing to say:
"My God, I'm dead."
A statement held close in his head
and he, too, was right.