Frank James

He showed up here before, in prose. Now he's back in verse.

My name is James-- not Jesse-- I am Frank.
You know me as a rebel, outlaw, killer.
The Civil War had made me a guerilla
defeated in the war, we got no thanks.

Our families starved in postwar misery.
We had no way to make an honest living,
there is no peace where there is no forgiving.
We turned our expertise to robbery.

Our fate caught up. A Minnesota town
claimed two men's lives and put the rest in jail,
left Jess and me our family's last defenders.

Now I'm the last. My brother's been cut down.
I've ridden to the end of Outlaw Trail.
Enough, I'm done with running. I surrender.