The 'Last Milking' Poem by James McLain

The 'Last milking' each one said!
who ever heard of one last milking,
but for the condemned,
the Victims have those rights
singing just as I am,
while in the church of 'death' it is just
even if we are well practiced children
and besides living in the south
any thing we want is legal 'dear'.
Except that one thing and that
old brand and flat that can of beer.

It was after all within thier hands,
and considered moreover how odd
An anonymous last request
This is the last one great frontier,
in Florida here, who knows.

Who would do it.
It would have to be witnessed.
In Two hundred years.
It had never been considered.
Yet, I knew some how.
But that a storm and quake was coming,
Looking out,
within that vast sea of witnesses.
Asking and
dumb founded as every arm came up
but his.

And when it came.
Then it came, CRASH!
The team in there panic,
Hurried it off much too quickly.

The creamy-white milk
swished out down through plastic pipes.
They thought they would milk it out,
for weeks if not a day,
can they make it last an hour.

And the 'Doctor' reluctantly,
pronounced the date and time
once again they felt cheated
pushing down the milk filled plunger
beating death again.

The rehearsal is carried out
over and over and if this is not hell
lets just do it, one more time.
Where is old sparky.