Supper

Robert Creeley

Shovel it in.

Then go away again.

Then come back and

shovel it in.

Days on the way,

lawn’s like a shorn head

and all the chairs are put away

again. Shovel it in.

Eat for strength, for health.

Eat for the hell of it, for

yourself, for country and your mother.

Eat what your little brother didn’t.

Be content with your lot

and all you got.

Be whatever they want.

Shovel it in.

I can no longer think of heaven

as any place I want to go,

not even dying. I want

to shovel it in.

I want to keep on eating,

drinking, thinking.

I am ahead. I am not dead.

Shovel it in.