ELEGY FOR FRANK
by David Spicer
not surprised the way you split.
Your friends’ souls now weigh less.
You’re the latest in the pantheon of
gone lunatics, Frank.
gave too much.
A month after we met, you brought loot
from alleged illegal activities:
a crocodile belt, a 24-karat gold
flask, a bootlegged Tarantula,
a new sport coat in cellophane wrap.
was the beginning.
the years you sent 400 albums, 50 movies,
a box of art books you wanted returned,
and your book of poems,
Dinner with Dr. Rocksteady.
abandon louder than your laugh,
you recalled the wild woman who warned
your girlfriend to keep her attack dog on a leash.
Who were you, Frank?
Richards’ cousin, Neal Cassady’s idol?
The Master of More.
revealed few secrets and machinated
your mysterious male ego.
told me you were a runaway,
your father’s shotgun more than
week after your brother broke your leg
you swore you’d
kick his ass into next week’s
knew then you’d fuck a pumpkin on a dare
or scale the Mississippi Bridge on a foggy dawn.
rail against the White House thugs,
threaten to move to an island, a city,
a country with no name if those
bastards won again.
couldn’t get rid of you, Frank.
You wore out my patience like blue
when holes appeared, you’d patch
with your brand of needle and
I guess I’m glad you did.
One car wreck too many, Frank.
not the seat belt, compadre?
not telling, you mad fucker.
want to deny your corpse—
the proof of life,
hurled through the windshield,
forever asleep beside the midnight cedar.
did you hide the catharsis?
took it with you, I’m sure.
are unfinished between you and me.
waiting for you to reappear, Frank.
lug nut laugh.
broken Cuban in your big maw.
keep laughing, my craziest brother.
on my way and can hear you.
David Spicer has poems in Tipton
Poetry Journal, Santa Clara
Review, Reed Magazine, The Literary Nest, Synaeresis, Yellow Mama, Hamilton Stone
Review, Chiron Review, Alcatraz, Gargoyle, Third
American Poetry Review, and elsewhere. He is the author of Everybody
Has a Story and five chapbooks; his latest chapbook is From the Limbs of
a Pear Tree (Flutter Press).