the coming summer

excuse me while a plant tomatos 
in the carpet. 
i want to watch the tomatos as
their skins slip off like night gowns.
i peeled a clementine yesterday.
the rind became a handful of underwear
they smelled like acid. 
i ate the clementine
lobe by lobe. each turned into 
a memory from when i was an infant.
i was hovering in the air 
& escaping my crib 
to go haunt the attic.
i have always had ghosted tendencies.
in another memory i lay in the oven
& the whole family gathers around
cheering me on. they are saying
i need to rise. i was a loaf of bread.
heat climbs upward
& the top rooms of the house
are murky because of it.
in the steam i cook a bowl 
of green beans & munch on them.
sitting on my bedroom floor
i write a fire escape plan
though i wonder if i would survive 
a leap from my window. 
would i splat like 
a ripe peach? soon all the trees 
will give up on producing sweetnesses 
just for humans to make pies out of.
apple pies are never as good 
as apples. ice cream is waiting
in the bath tub. vanilla 
will once day be the only flavor leaf
& chocolate will be a legend
children as grandparents about.
if i have a garden, how long
will it take before the vines
start planting me? start with one tomato 
& the next thing you know 
you're handing your teeth over
to a cabbage. fall will be here
soon enough. winter will come next.
the snow will carry flowers 
in his hands. a parade of crickets
will march 
down the hall. i will join them
& they were say
"you have survived so much"
& i will tell them to hush 
& eat a tomato.