Frank

I met Frank on Christmas
While listening to Jack Keroac
Front a jazz combo
in my foul
Smelling
dingy
dark
cold apartment

He knocked on my door
introduced himself
said he was my new neighbor
asked why
Keroac
My dad gave me the CD for Christmas
I said
Cool
I invited him in
asked if he had any dope
No - wine - want a glass
No thanks
I said

Frank told me he was an artist
his brother was semi-famous
that he grew up and spent his
whole life in Phoenix
We became pretty good friends

I would walk outside around noon sometimes
find his work drying on the sidewalk
Some of it was really good
I wondered when he did it
neither one of us did much
at least he had something to show for it
When I’d see him later I’d tell him
I liked his stuff
he’d sort of smile
look down at his work and shrug

Frank started dealing coke
He painted less
my brother-in-law
saw him more often than I did
When I would run into him
he’d offer me a line
talk about
painting or rock and roll
maybe do another
look through his portfolio
I like the stuff on the sidewalk
better than any of this slick shit
I’d always tell him
Frank would laugh
pour a fresh drink
show me his brother’s book
I like the stuff on the sidewalk
better than any of this slick shit too
I’d say
Frank would grin - say

You always say that