Yay, science is bringing back Mama's tomatoes,
sweeter and crispr than ever before, sunripe
and juicy, love apples galore, and just my type.
I love Mama's sauces, stormy eyes, tornados
stirring down the boiling fruit of the hot ragu
soon to favor the crumble-breaded eggplants stuffed
with mozzarella, lamb mince, bell pepper -- I'm chuffed!
Mama singing at the sausage grinder, Boo-hoo,
for all the little smarts and stings a long life brings,
all the catastrophes of unrequited love,
all the unanswered prayers suffered to fools above ,
but I've got chicken cacciatore fit for kings.
Mama, mama, oh how I love your tomatoes.
Wish you were here beside me in ripe Barbados!
