Robertson on the Lam

Here's the thing about Robertson: he's a fraud. How are there five aces in the deck? Blame Robertson. Robertson knows where the corpses are buried; He keeps two sets of books, fudges columns & Filches from the register. Everyone knows Robertson At the bar & they humor but avoid him. The slack air dulls the brain. Robertson doesn't mind. He's on the train, hand on someone else's wallet & never-you-mind if you catch his eye. He's sly Like a wet fox cornered & ready to snarl but reserved Just in case things swing his way. They usually do. Robertson catches breaks like fly balls in September. Sunday at the zoo, Robertson's at the monkey house Making faces just to get a reaction. Drop his name & get a private tour of holding cells where drunks Sing his praises. Robertson out on bail is magnanimous. He boasts, he floats, he flaunts, he parries, he spreads Lies that make your mother blush & your sister interested. Roberton's just that way, they say; no one can contain him. He is multitudes.…