“On Why I Killed Frank” An Original Poem by Stephen Kaplan

I was tending to the bar one winter’s night

Not much to see in the flickering light

The place was fairly dead at ten

Just a few ladies and some passed out men

I was standing there, cleaning a glass

After pouring a drink for a lovely lass

When who should come bursting through the door

But a boorish man standing six-foot-four

He declared he was Frank; he was loud and obnoxious

Just the sight of him made me nauseous

He went up to a lady who was not amused

He asked her if he could buy her some booze

She politely declined, but he was persistent

So she sighed and said, “If you insist it.”

He laughed loudly and made a weird snort

And said, “Of course I insist, I’m a really good sport.”

Then he looked at me, smiled and winked

I stood there dumbfounded, I couldn’t blink

Who did this guy think he was?

He thought he was so great just because

He stood at six-foot-four, no less

And built like a lumberjack, but I digress

He walked over to the bar and said to me,

“Hey there barkeep, what’s for free?”

I didn’t answer, I could feel my eye twitch

Calling me “barkeep” was like calling me “bitch”

Finally, I took a deep breath and said to him,

“Nothing’s for free, kid, and the name is Tim.”

He said, “Okay Tim, a Shirley Temple, stat.”

I said, “We only have what’s on tap.”

“But you’re a bar, how can this be?”

“There was a shipping error, now we’re almost alcohol-free.”

Then he bellowed loudly that he had a complaint

He said that my customer service skills stank

He said he had seen better service at the DMV

He said, “How can a bar be alcohol-free?”

I told him that it was out of my control

He told me to shove it and that I looked like a troll

It’s true I may only be five-foot-five

But at the end of my story, I’m the one alive

So after five minutes of constant bickering

He told me he just wanted some good liquor-ing

I told him we had Coors, and Budweiser and Heineken

He said those beers sucked and he would never come by again

I smiled thinking this was the end

But it wasn’t, not even close, my friend

He was only getting started at being an asshole

He yelled and screamed and smashed a glass bowl

He snapped all of the darts in half

And when I asked him to stop he started to laugh

At this point all my customers started to leave

Except for the guy drooling on his sleeve

I asked him why he was being a douche

He pushed me back and I fell with an oof

He said, “Keep out of my way, you short, little man

Unless you want to feel the wrath of my hand.”

I didn’t like how this guy was talking

How this guy was acting

How this guy was walking

And finally something snapped in my brain

I knew this guy would drive me insane

I knew it from when he yelled out his name

I knew I would harm him and what’s more, maim

When he had yelled out, “Frank is here,

Don’t worry ladies, have no fear

For I am just the bravest guy

You know you want to give me a try.”

From that cocky introduction

I knew it would lead to my destruction

My sanity was gone, I was feeling fraught

I knelt behind the bar looking for what I sought

I grabbed a knife, no two, no three

And when I stood, his back was to me

I had a look of crazy in my eye

I knew in the next moment this man would die

I jumped over the bar and ran up to him

I stabbed in the back, heart and chin

I couldn’t quite reach his brain

But when he collapsed, I felt my energy drain

I knew I had just committed murder

I had to dispose of the body before I could go any further

With the knives I sawed his limbs off one by one

Then I stabbed him in the face a few times for fun

I buried his pieces out in the back

Then I closed up the bar and headed to my shack

Now you know what I have done

I turned a man into a no one

I have not seen him on the news

No one is looking, I am kind of amused

I’m a little bit scared that I feel fine

But if it was wrong, I’ve seen no sign


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