Last SupperPosted: June 1, 2013
Before you report for deployment we grab
what little time we have left. By the door
we pile duffle bags full of combat gear
before we sit to eat cold crab left over
from yesterday’s gathering of friends
and family. Sans delay, we grip long legs
tight despite their sharp spines, tear limbs
apart at joints, scissor their pale insides.
Soft undersides open and we strip
meat in long lengths. Cavernous shoulders
release plump orange-white bundles. Tangled
fingers dig into mounds of buttered morsels.
Hurry drips sweet on our lips, hungry for one
more repast before this war pulls us apart.
Caroline Le Blanc
Writer-in-Residence, Museum of the American Military Family