Imagine: A rain stick swishes softly in the background. A girl performs an interpretive dance involving a lot of stretching, then balling up on the ground, then stretching, then rolling around. Then stretching, while I recite the poem…
Oh, banana. Why are you so sad?
Yellow butter skin
bruised by the softest touch
bruised by time
Oh, banana. All I want is to
dip you in nutella
to please my taste buds.
Oh, banana.
Sassy bastard.
The love I feel for you is equal to the hate you feel for fruit flies.
Biz-buz, little fruit fly. Fly away from
sad banana, and let him die in peace.
Sad, sad banana.
Bow.
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Oh how they suffer! Great poem.
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http://medicatedwordzallowed.wordpress.com
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Sad banana does make great banana muffins or banana bread though! Not all is lost!
Agreed :) thank goodness for sad banana!
Bananas are yucky, but your poem…delightful!
At night, when all bananas in a cluster try to go to sleep, they always get in each other’s way. So they challenge each other because they need to sleep without getting disturbed. By morning, they are all bruised up from beating each other up.