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.