My Great-Grandfather (or: Just Another Asshole Who's Blood Lives on Inside of Me)

I don't know much about him
The only thing I know for sure though
Is that he was an asshole
And that's putting it lightly

I've only heard about him on a couple of occasions
From my father
Who also, fittingly
Once called him a "motherfucker"
Which is a pretty
Literal description of the man

See, he liked to drink
Prohibition wasn't over with
For more than 20 years
But the man was in bars
Almost every night
Drinking his brains, guts and wits out

Somewhere along the line
He got involved with a woman
The woman wasn't my great-grandmother
And she was married
To another man
This man also enjoyed killing himself in bars
Nightly

So one day the man caught word
That some asshole was sleeping with his wife
So he jumped in his car
And sped toward the bar
Where the asshole liked to drink

The man went in
And asked for the asshole
Someone told him he was sitting just a few feet away
So the man stepped up
And asked the asshole
If he was actually the asshole
Who was fucking his wife
And what do you know?
The asshole stood up
And screamed in the guys face
Probably more than a little drunk
With balls the size of beanbag chairs

Then the man smiled
As he did that
He reached into his coat
And pulled out
A switchblade
The asshole's eyes widened
And before he knew it
The man had clicked the blade
It snapped open
And was thrust into his stomach
Nineteen or twenty times

Now you'd think this would have been a blessing
For my great-grandmother
My grandmother
And my great-aunts and uncles
And it was
They were rid of the man who caused them so much
Pain, hurt, disgust, confusion, scarring and anger
But despite all that
So my dad says
My great-grandmother still sobbed at his funeral
And even
Jumped in the grave
As they lowered the casket
Screaming and crying
"My Frank, my Frank..."