By Ed “Foots” Lipman
They wrapped Big Fran in plaster
and put him on a bed
to heal & to watch
each approaching stranger
with dangerous eyes …
The cops assigned
to guard his door
can’t understand
that what’s become
to past to them
can be heard breathing
softly on The Yard
thru the eerie quiet
of this prison hospital
early in the dawn.
But Frank knows better;
he’s learned today
is as much a part
of yesterday as is tomorrow;
and that there are
no innocent bystanders
except most little children
and a few truly beautiful women,
both of which
are said to be
in short supply
inside San Quentin.
(the soft rain blows in,
he watches it pattern the sheets
but cannot move to reach the window … )
The days will probably move
in slow procession
and sudden move
arise to cause concern;
but still he watches,
knowing all the while
that after all
paranoia is nothing more
than increased awareness.
(from my window I sometimes
see just his hands –
they grip and flex
like small animals, restless
at the ends of his arms, waiting)
— for Big Frank Tubach after surgery, SQ 1975
