A lonesome tomato stewed on the plains.
I had been trying for months
To learn the right moves
To collapse the father-signal,
And everyone I asked told me
To look to the lowlands; there
I was supposed to find
One of the secrets, a choreography
That could protect and nurture,
That could fairly allocate the wind.
When I got there the tomato was singing
But their voice was decimated, cracked
And absurd, like a seedy allegory
Of an old shipwreck. I asked them
How long until the suffering would be
Over and they paused, smiled gently.
They told me I needed
A better understanding of transfiguration.
Tom Snarsky teaches mathematics at Malden High School in Malden, Massachusetts, USA.