Frocked

By Craig Sipe

Frocked
from “Tombstone” 1993

I bought one of those coats,
you know, the long slim
raven frocks they wore

in “Tombstone” to the OK Corral,
when they strode down
the timpani dirt
— Boom–Boom–Bomb
to the draw.

Mighty cool, coal coat —
serious Boom that I wore to
The Magic Flute
in Paris, and then later to

a Christmas party at work
where the celebrants
called me Sheriff.

But, later, I got lardy on
too many sarsaparillas,
and retired, to marshal–up
the weeds in the garden,

un–lubbing a bit
of the blubber, but
still the Earp won’t fit.

Just tried it on fresh out
from the cedar closet, and
not even an

Almost . . . Goddamn . . . Clasp
within a Verrazzano’s reach
of a mating hole —

All the reason to tear
out of this roost and
— Boom–Boom–Bomb —

right down to the Golden Corral,
take that bottomless gravy boat
across the river Drum–Styx

waving “I’m your Huckleberry”
madly, at the endless salad bar.