To live inside a vegetable, to never concern oneself over dinner with images of feather-packed cages or fret over sustainability, to never lie clutching a gut jammed with food that could best one’s IUD in a hormonal battle—one could accustom oneself to sleep, commit and project. One could sign a book deal inside a vegetable.

Living inside a vegetable might transform one into a poet, someone always on the lookout for rot, for slight changes in color, one whose nostrils are always a bit too open to the world. One might not be able to control one’s hands at all times. To live inside a vegetable is to live for temptation, to live for submersion or immersion. One must get used to being overwhelmed.

In fact, living inside a vegetable requires a certain temperament. A certain stature is helpful. One, above all, must be willing to leave one’s shoes by the door. A furnished vegetable can ease one’s transition but is certain to be more dear. Cooking-in-a-vegetable classes are offered at the public library in rotation with technology-as-artifact lectures and are recommended.

Beware: there are several and varied consequences to living inside a vegetable. One should mind one’s lungs and consumption of conventional dry cleaning services. Water can make for slips and slop. Desolation has not been found to be causally linked. Fundamentally, one often finds that to live inside a vegetable is to live with consequences often found in consequence of living.