Because you want to be cool, like the kids on CSI

Interactive Autopsy.

Have you ever been so bored

you put 'autopsy' into

the Google Image Search?

Art and autopsy
collide.

And now,
a poem about
autopsy*:

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 . . .

Russell Edson


*Greek "to see for oneself"