I could have died that morning

and no one would have been the wiser.

The thieves fled on foot.

Nobody chased them.

She pointed the pistol at him

and said, All right, you bastard, this is it.

She was the most beautiful woman

I had ever seen, and I knew

she could never love me.

My name is Smith, he said. Smith with an S.

The stairs seemed to go down forever.
The footsteps behind me were growing louder.

The clown’s makeup was smeared

with sweat and all the rice pudding

the children had flung at him.

I had to get rid of the body somehow.

David Rogers’ poems, stories, and articles have appeared in various print and electronic publications, including The Comstock Review, Atlanta Review, Sky and Telescope, and Astronomy magazine. He is the author of two novels, D.B. Cooper is Dead: A Solomon Starr Adventure and Thor’s Hammer. More of his work can be read at https://davidrogersbooks.wordpress.com/.