Beldame Rite for the Missing One

Let us remind her Tuesday’s Child is not full of grace

So she can go outside and slash his name on a dying oak

Launder the shirt and pants that smell of his skin

Use his toothbrush to scrub the bathroom floor

We'll prompt her to try eye of newt and toe of frog

Say she mustn't wait for the phone to ring or shoe to drop

Tell her to plant foxglove and rue in his path

To give up celibacy and revel in the pleasures of the body

When she throws darts at his portrait she should aim low

Then write an epic poem in which he does not appear