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.