well worn but not useless

i'm giving my body

to science,

she tells me as we drink bloody

marys

in the shade of the oak tree

in her yard.

she's brought her bowl

of goldfish out

to keep us company,

setting it on the table.

if i die and yet

all of my body parts are healthy

and remain in tact.

why not?

she sucks

on her celery stalk,

then waves it around like

a baton

directing an orchestra.

i mean, why not?

she says.

if i'm dead why not give up

my eyes,

my brain,

my arms and legs,

my heart, my kidney, my

lungs....my...

i interrupt her at this point.

and tell

her to stop.

i'm afraid of what she might

say next.