The Autopsy Poem by Russell Edson

The Autopsy

Rating: 5.0


In a back room a man is performing an autopsy
on an old raincoat.
His wife appears in the doorway with a candle
and asks, how does it go?
Not now, not now, I'm just getting to the lining,
he murmurs with impatience.
I just wanted to know if you found any blood clots?
Blood clots?!
For my necklace . . .

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Russell Edson

Connecticut, United States
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