Marilyn Nelson
“Asparagus”
He taught me how to slurp asparagus:
You hold it in your fingers, eat the stem
by inches to the tender terminus,
then close your eyes and suck in the sweet gem.
First, cook it in its own delicious steam,
sauté breadcrumbs in butter separately,
combine, eat slowly. As he ate, a gleam
in his eyes twinkled with such jeu d'esprit,
it made me drunk with longing. In my chair
amid our laughing, slurping dinner guests,
I felt as smug as a new billionaire,
not jealous, not rejected, not depressed,
as almost obscene, almost a debauché,
he slurped asparagus, and winked at me.