How to Grow a Husband Tree

by Lizzy Straus

Forget for a moment the bone that figures the velvet wheel

of a swan’s neck, a horse’s. Remind yourself milk is not a gift.

Choose a tonsured wing of yard, an expanse of colored clay

bared by flocks of hooves and teeth at graze. Kneel, as a cobbler

at a woman’s heel, your trowel her endless ankle in your hands.

Allow yourself to desire the ankle. Imagine it fetlocked, articulate

joint haired so white, so smooth, its gleams might embarrass

monks, make them draw their habits tight. Begin to dig with fury.

The dirt should really fly. If you’ve forgotten seeds, prepare

to be the root yourself. If you’ve remembered seeds, prepare

to be the root yourself. Bury yourself standing, all patience.

For How to Grow a Wife Tree see Edible Plants and Poisons.

Photo via cayusa/flickr.

Lizzy Straus is an MFA student at Columbia University. She lives in Brooklyn, New York.