medical waste

my chest is in the same pond as my grandfather's legs.
there are eyes in the reeds blinking. caution, a hazardous
body is arriving in the morning. a dotted line 
skipped across like lacing. sew me shut before you go.
wipe your teeth free of leaves. i have dreams
my scars will breed. circle me cyclone like 
the years of a tree. i eat root vegetables. pull them
free from the soil & i find fingers always clutching
one another. in the little plastic bag is a worry
but nothing to be troubleed about. i hope god isn't 
a doctor. nothing is sterile. i have contaminated even
my memory of forks. skin slipped away as smooth 
as synthetic silk. a night robe used as a flag.
come in the water is very cold. the air has never
been used before. what would my grandfather think
of where his skin went? he wanted to be donated 
to science but he was dead too long. i too want 
experiment in my history but it's too soon. 
or maybe not. maybe the blood was funnel into 
a loom. maybe i'm one step closer to reincarnation.
i have no use for a pin cushion not with the back 
of my hand all bare & easy. i fix his laugh to the wall.
did he eve laugh? the truth is memory, especially flesh memory
is mostly invented. my grandfather is pieces
nothing to be captured anymore. i too cannot go whole.
that was reserved for saint mary. it's unfair.
what an easy way to not dismember. i'd share my blood
with anyone who asks nicely. plug myself into 
the garden if i have to. a petri dish is calling
& i should really answer. i have a cell splitting 
that wants so badly to be a palm.