Where'd My Uterus Go?

I imagine it, for some reason, flying. Escaped
from some no-doubt appalling hospital bin
way back in the back, where all the deleted and expurgated organs
get incinerated
or compressed. Trick kidneys and uncooperative hearts.
The mystical appendix. Revolving door of the lungs.
A natty tooth in the dirt.

What’s there when even nothing is gone?
But I shouldn’t say it was nothing. It was a lush
bed, some days of the month. It was a lunar
module.

Yes, I’m sure. It's feeling right at home
in the sky. I bet it’s even thinking: what better time, after all,
to retire, be less than nothing, and at last do some traveling,
see the universe?