Every intern has a special relationship
With his cadaver.
Tonight I see her shadow
At the edges of the highway
Like a great neuron transmitting
Signals to some sinister mid-western mind.
At this hour
The underpass is a catacomb
& the bar lights must be dimmed by now
But Alex knows a storefront in Chinatown
Where you can drink vodka from teapots
Until these corpses rise up
In the whitewashed morning
Wielding scalpels, demanding refunds.
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