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"The Cowboy's Last Request"

Copyright©1997, Michael S. Robinson

He lay there on his deathbed,

gaunt and ashen as the the snow.

His breathing, heavy-labored, and

his heartbeat, deathly slow.

His gnarled face and silver hair

topped-off his plaid pajamas;

and, at the other end, stuck out

his treasured Tony Lamas.

He strained to talk, a muffled try;

I leaned and heard him say,

"Friend, listen to my last request

before I slip away...

I've stashed some Chivas Regal

underneath the bunkhouse stair,

and saved it for an extra-special,

really rare affair.

It's sure, I’ll never drink it now—

although its taste I crave—

so, please go get it when I'm gone,

and pour it on my grave.

Well, since I was his truest friend,

I knew I must comply,

and told him he could rest assured

and go ahead and die!

But, as an afterthought, I asked,

"I, too, possess a thirst;

Please be a sport and let me pour it

through my kidneys first!"

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