How to kill-

Weird poem. Barely rhymes but has a lot of representatives.

How to kill
By Keith Douglas

Under the parabola of a ball,
a child turning into a man,
I looked into the air too long.
The ball fell in my hand,
it sang in the closed fist: Open Open
Behold a gift designed to kill.

Now in my dial of glass appears
the soldier who is going to die.
He smiles, and moves about in ways
his mother knows, habits of his.
The wires touch his face: I cry
NOW. Death, like a familiar, hears

And look, has made a man of dust
of a man of flesh. This sorcery
I do. Being damned, I am amused
to see the centre of love diffused
and the wave of love travel into vacancy.
How easy it is to make a ghost.

The weightless mosquito touches
her tiny shadow on the stone,
and with how like, how infinite
a lightness, man and shadow meet.
They fuse. A shadow is a man
when the mosquito death approaches.

Inferences:
This poem is about world war 2.
"parabola"- a curve, used in math sometimes used when throwing things into the air. (Gravity causes it not to travel in a straight line.
Under the parabola of a ball ... a child turning into a man... an gift designed to kill.
When the person is in childhood, he throws and catches balls but when he grows up to become a man during a war he throws and catches grenades instead. Ball, designed to kill
Dial of glass...appears the soldier who is about to die...wires touch his face
Definitely a scope(in a war) and the wires are the aiming areas.
A man of dust out of a man of flesh. This sorcery I do
That means to kill. Flesh to dust, alive to dead
The weightless mosquito touches
A mosquito travels like a bullet, swiftly, stealthily and deadly
When man and shadow meet... they fuse
Dying again. Shadow means nothingness when something becomes nothing it is like death.