Secondhand Frank
John handed me a jacket of the sort
They call a fleece in England, made of mild
Beige man-made fiber looking like a short
And curly lambskin. Then perhaps he smiled
Though what that meant I would not know.
I tried it on because it was a gift.
Then afterwards as in an overthrow
Like that from Jason’s coat, as if a rift
Was what was wished, I learned that it had been
A present he had bought for Frank, the man
Who pepper sprayed him three times. I was keen
To cloak my shock. Just what had been the plan
Behind this offering? Was I to feel blest,
Or queued behind that monster, second best?