Are wonderful to think about
as splattered messes on streets,
or sidewalks where women walk
while they wear high heels,
and rotting tomatoes turn black
with green gray hairs that mar
their thin red skin like acne
waiting to burst open to spill
the seeds that need to escape
their limited space, to spread
out, to drip down, to catch a
bird’s eye view of the sky
as it must look before a cloud
releases its water weight upon
those bowed tomato vines which
start to crack from the weight
of rotting tomatoes that begin
their fall too ripe to eat but perfect
to splat. Rotting tomatoes are
wonderful to contemplate.
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