Born a docile thing, With cheeks as ripe as tomato skin, And hands that clung like grapevines.

This small child, Born clean, And pure, And good, Would be a better beast than the ones who fathered him.

But the vigour of kin can be contagious, And lit by the hands of his own progenitors, The boy began to change, A too hot flame searing his good will.

A child once destined to raise mountains, And tend to the earths wounds, Would instead, Be a different kind of man.

He who was thought to be all tomato pulp, And soft fleshy skin, Was instead the fruit of his blood.

A wilted tangle of brambles and thorn, Sharp and cruel, Mean and hard.

Tomatoes are funny vegetables, they sit stationary on the counter until called upon to be eaten. They are red and in many cases flawless. They remain Red for their entire lives, except for their early birth, where they may very well be green, as they ripen to maturity. They are often the vegetable of choice when you decide to grow your first offering at home, in the most basic of environments. A pot, some soil, tomato seeds, and some support for their growth, assuming that they grow as expected. I remember my first Tomato plant in Lagos, Nigeria where I grew up. It was a sickly looking plant, held up by twine and attached to a bamboo stick. I loved it though. It threatened to bring forth fruit, which I could claim as my own and eat. I recall that I waited for weeks to watch as the tiny green tomatoes slowly turned red. They did, but they didn’t get very big, and in the end I was forced to accept defeat and pick them. I ate them and they were very nice albeit small. But they were a product of my gardening efforts, and that was what mattered at the time.

Potatoes are different, in that they only require a dark, damp environment and to be buried until they emerge with roots. An old barrel, some nutritious soil, water and to be left alone. Actually sounds good to me. Have come, would be finding long forgotten bags of potatoes in the back of the cupboard, that had sprouted vociferously in the darkness and neglect and were now too poisonous to eat. They apparently say that once they sprout and have a lot of eyes, they are poisonous.

Ana is a tomato, She sits on her ass all day long. she’s too ripe to cook, with but we keep her here anyway.

Waiting for the day that she grows, Fucking Ana it’s been a month. She still laying on her butt. I’m confused and with no given clue to why she’s still ripe.

Fuck this shit Ana is going in the trash, I’ve grown inpatient and extremely hungry. I will not wait for this bitch no more. Bye bye Ana you were a waste; You looked so good I wanted a taste.