Any Last Requests?

A creative writing instructor of mine once had our class do an exercise where we would pose a question (any question at all) in the poem's title or it's pretext, and then write a poem as the response to the question. This effort is from that exercise, and when "Any last requests?" popped in my head, the poem wrote itself. In the poem titled "Tide Pools," the question came in the form of a quote from one of Pablo Neruda's poems, and is the other example of what I had written during this unique exercise. I recommend trying it.
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Any last requests?
Yes, I do, now that you mention it.

Don't put shiny polished shoes on my stiff cold feet.
Not to mention, cotton or polyester socks of any kind.

Please keep all my rings and watches.
Everything, in fact, that you might be tempted
To have them force onto my fingers or wrists.

Or sell them all for cash, I really don't care.

And whatever you do, please don't let them
Put an expensive suit on me, old or new.
It's just such a waste on so many levels.

And why loop a nice leather belt to hold up my pants?
I'm lying down aren't I?

But come to think of it, I don't want to be lying down at all.

My empty shell lying in repose for years on end
Suffocating in an airtight subterranean vault
Whilst living feet walk over those of us taking the dirt nap?

I don't think so.

Not for me, anyway.

I will sleep in the sea as sand.

DJH, 2006