Lantern Review: A Journal of Asian American Poetry
Issue 4 | Winter 2012
The graft thinks it knows
who they are, and bends like an elbow at approximately five degrees—bandaged joints.
The science is easy, grafting—difficult. It is violence, subjugation, perversion, oppression, cuts, possibly
pain—there is also profit, and simply put, it is apple juice in the end. Leonard B. Hertz, a former horticulturist with the University
of Minnesota explains grafting in detail in an online article titled “Grafting and Budding Fruit Trees.” The farmhands
don't know where Minnesota is—I quote Hertz: “The seed from a Haralson apple will produce an apple tree, but it will not
produce a Haralson apple tree. Likewise, the seed from a Honeygold apple will not produce a Honeygold apple tree. In other words,
fruit trees cannot be reproduced 'true' to the original cultivar from seed.” All this information is apparently redundant for
a farmer and his farmhand who have often never been to university or even high school in India. But a farmer knows this. He know that
the Red Delicious at breakfast, or in a lunch box, or in an apple strudel is never really a Red Delicious. It cannot be, it is always
something else. It only imitates a Red Delicious. But he never tells, he doesn't care. The farmhand knows how to cut, slice and cleft,
attach one tree to another and tape it up—he cares only for
the procedures of production.