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.
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.