must now accomplish the division of remains,
assassins, they must now be scrupulous, take pains
to be exact in the division of each part.
(Let not the question of the genitals impede
them in the disposition of their Singular Dead)
Each must be left with half a hand and half a heart.
A hand for him. A hand for her. A lung apiece
and an iambic foot for each, and then surcease.
As to disposal of the parts his portion will rot
up in the attic, carried there and then forgot,
his half the heart plopped into an Etruscan jar
they bought in Tuscany. The rest of his share he will lock
in a trunk. Her half of heart she will pound in a mortar
and eat. The rest of her share will be burned until charred black.
His odds and ends of her, dispensed with casually, will stink.
To be consumed by gut and fire is cleaner, I should think.