Last Meal

On death row you celebrate your last night

with your last dinner, your choice, your last craving

to make at least your stomach happy before it stops

craving anything at all. Many choose

simple food: a hamburger, mac and cheese, ice cream.

What might it be for you, my friend?

Duckling Rouenaisse? A roast of unborn lamb?

Washed down with Veuve Cliquot ’59 and old Armagnac?

And how do you know, my friend, that you are not

eating your last meal at this very table now?

Chew slowly. Make sure you take in all the body and the blood

Bill Holm, Chain Letter of the Soul, Selected Poems


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