Postcard Poetry: Day 2

The front:

The back:

Close-up of poem:

Translation:
_____

Once Upon A Time

I would die before touching
my tongue to a vegetable.
At Christmas I gagged over
fried okra my Aunt made --
she cried. Now I eye eggplant
seductively, choose smooth
zucchini over hot dogs, salivate
over spinach enchiladas.
I dream of sleeping on a bed
of plump tomatoes, a vegetable
princess, broccoli crown, carrot
necklace, squash sprouting
from the soil of my body.

_____

jb