Consider this my birthday wish

If, today, I were
to die, donate
my body

to the National Museum.

Ask, for them,
to plastinate
my lower

in the grace of eternal run.

Donate my eyes to the blind
and merest child. My skin
for the cold uncovered. Bones
for the frailest flesh.

Grind my innards fine, and
feed them to
the fishes. Feed them to
the birds.
Cremate the ones too many, and
fertilize the earth.

For in death
we are
the earth.

And I hope,
for when I die,
for me
to be
not nowhere
   but everywhere.


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