Smitty's morning shit didn't go so well today,
Though the paper was on time,
And Karen was at church
So the house was empty and quiet.
And everything was fine -
The morning moved in sacred lockstep
With every one before it.

Until the world rushed in and two men with scars
And rough red noses like Smitty's
Grabbed hold of his hair
And pulled him face-down on the floor.
Black gun to the skull, red face to the floor
The day after Smitty
Had outlined his will.

2001