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The 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 .
.
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Poem by Russell Edson
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things