The Great Tomato Seed Epic
Ray Bub
for Colin Pearson
Colin decided we needed some mulch
For feeding the shrubs and flowers.
Arthur and David his brother both told us
The Sewage Disposal Plant tosses out sludge:
Perfectly fertile and free for the asking
So over we went.
At The Works we were treated like visiting kings.
In the sewage business curious citizens are rare things.
Mr. Rabbit (his real name) the boss showed us ‘round:
Dials, lights and switches,
Pools, vats, pipes and ditches,
Even the snowplow and tool storage niches,
The Total Facility.
He saved the end of the tour for the best part,
His pride and baby
(Chief happiness maybe,)
The Sewage Disposal Plant Heart.
Totally mechanized,
Controls all computerized,
Of course equipped with photo-electric eyes,
And throned in a building of impressive size:
The Processed Effluent Solids Extraction Filter-Press Treatment System,
Source of the plant food we sought.
The men were loading The Press with a charge:
We watched in fascination.
Colin inquired about the frequency of the operation.
“Twice an hour night and day
“We run it through non-stop.
“A constant supply of useful water
“Is returned from the slop.”
Mr. Rabbit ended our tour
With a wave of his hand toward a hole in the floor:
“When the Press is opened the waste drops down
“Into trucks that take it to our dumping ground.
“It’s no good for farming, it’s chemistry changes
“Depending on what’s in the sewage.
“It also seems to encourage nettles
And builders don’t want it for fill ‘cause it settles.
“I wish we could find a use for it
“But no one needs old press-dried shit.”
This “solid-waste effluent cake” collection,
The gathered remains of repeated rejections
Began its journey as vegetable peels
And scraps from bang-up Sunday meals.
Salads and drinks to savor and swallow
Found their way to the porcelain hollow
To join the discarded waste of the valley,
Flushed down the toilet or swept from the alley,
Washed through sewer pipes, filtered and pressed,
Then finally taken and laid to rest
In the Sewage Works Dump forever,
Unless:
Saturday gardeners like Colin and me
Take it to put around bushes and trees.
The Lorryman led us out to the dump;
We helped him unload.
He advised against taking recent pressings,
“Too fresh, the acid might eat at your shrubs.
“After it’s set in the sun for a while
“It softens and mellows,
“That’s what you want.”
Colin held bags, I shit-shoveled,
While talk of the sludge-cake contents continued.
The driver said, “Those tomatoes, for instance…”
Marking the older mounds with a glance.
I followed his gaze and stared in surprise.
Over all of the earlier ordure piles
A rich green carpet of tomato plants
Heavy with ripe red fruit was spread.
“Of course we don’t plant them,
“They grow by themselves,
“Come in the sewage with everything else.
None of the other vegetables grows.
“Tomato seeds just can’t be killed, I suppose.”
“If they come in the sewage, from where do they start?”
I asked as I shoveled the last bag full.
“Must be from salads or garbage,
“Washed down the drain or eaten, digested,
“Rejected and passed on to toilet, through sewer pipe,
“Tank to filter then out to here.”
Colin said, “Only the hardiest seed
“Could make that journey and stay alive,
“Patiently waiting its chance to bloom.”
When the car was loaded we thanked the driver,
And asked him to give Mr. Rabbit our regards.
I picked a hatful of ripe tomatoes
To satisfy my curiosity,
Eat some, make some into chutney,
Start the seeds on a fresh journey.
We drove home talking of what we’d seen,
Pleased that we found it so interesting.
Later that evening I sat deep in thought
Moving both bowels and mind at a trot,
Comparing my life to the tomato seed’s:
At first I was food for society’s needs.
As a child digested by public schools,
Tutoring, instruction, all manner of rules
Were applied to my mind and body and heart
To insure that I’d always play my part
In that Pool Of Life they call a game,
Though it seem more like the porcelain frame
Where the noble tomato seed gets its start,
Heralded maybe by an off-key fart.
Out in Real Life I’m carried along
Experiencing society’s Right And Wrong,
Looking for fortune, fame and reward,
Hoping for happiness, love, room and board.
Our seed meanwhile is traveling too
With fellow passengers muck and goo,
Garbage and shit and trash and scum;
It seems like much the same route as I’ve come.
“But where is it leading, is life in vain?”
I wondered aloud as I pulled on the chain.
Right quickly the answer swirled into view:
“Heed that hearty seed’s lesson for you:
“Endure life’s failures and confusion,
“Patiently wear that loser’s smile.
“Wait for the time past the final illusion
“When you’ll find yourself on the last shit-pile,
“And then like the humble tomato seed
“You will bear sweet fruit, sweet fruit indeed.”