Tomatoes are so very yesterday.
I mean, who ever really fell in love
With them except the crazies over there
In Spain who smash each other with the fruit
Until the streets run red. I’m over them.
The deadly night shade’s cousin might as well
Forget it if it thinks I’ll once again
Experiment with twenty different kinds
The catalogues each promise are the best:
“The wonder of the west!”
“The very best!”
“It’s extra early. Sixty days from seed
“The fruit’s at least a half a pound!”
“A single fruit will feed
“Save the earth
by planting seed we grow organically!”
The earth can die; pollution reign supreme.
The catalogs are going in the trash
Before I buy their empty promises
Again. I will be disciplined, restrained.
I’ll only grow enough to feed me for a year