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Michael Larocca
© 1987
To carry a dead brain in a body that survives
With my head always bent from the weight
While others feed me and empty my bedpan -
Give me the strength to pull the trigger!
To lie in a hospital bed with machinery
Pumping my heart and controlling my lungs
And a little machine with a steady "Ping"
Is more horrible than Hell!
I fear that when I am dead and gone,
They will stick my corpse in a box
And visit my grave to cry and moan
What a terrible waste of space!
If the grass isn't trimmed and neat,
Or the flowers have withered and died,
Or no one visits except a dog and his urine
I'll never know the difference!
No, let me live as long as I live
And die when my time is through.
I would rather a life that is short but full
Than one that is long, yet empty.
And when I have done all that I can do,
Don't cry and mourn for me.
And in the haste to prolong my life,
Don't prolong my death.
Give the body to science when I quit using it,
Or scatter the ashes over the sea.
Toss it in a power furnace along with the coal,
Or boil it in a pot and feed it to the kids.
BACKGROUND
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Michael Larocca is an author of numerous novels and as of July 2006 is living in Thailand.
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