“On Leaving the Body to Science” by Claudia Emerson | Blackbird v19n1

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On Leaving the Body to Science

The my becomes
a the, becomes
the state’s

the coroner’s,
something
assignable,

by me, alone,
though it will not
be the I

I am on
leaving it, no
longer to be

designated human or
corpse: cadaver
it will be,

nameless patient
stored in
the deep hold

of the hospital
as in the storage
of a ghost ship

run aground—
the secret in it
that will,

perhaps, stir again
the wind that
failed. It

will be pickled,
kept like larva,
like a bullet

sealed gleaming
in its chamber.
They will gather

around it,
probe and sample,
argue—then

return it
to its between-
world, remove

their aprons
and gloves
and stroll, some evenings,

a city block
for a beer,
a glass of chilled

white wine. Even there, they
will continue
to speak of it,

what they
glean from beneath
the narrative

of scars, surgical
cavities, the
wondrous

mess it became
before I left it
to them

with what’s
left of me, this
name, a signature,

a neatened
suture, perfect, this
last, selfish stitch.