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