NaPoWriMo, Day 10 “Banana”

Oh man. 1/3rd of the way through and I’m just not feeling it. Weird weekend. So I’m going to write a poem about a banana, because I don’t have anything else in me, and I have one balancing on my knee right now. Fuck it, yolo.

Day 10
Ode to a Banana

O, you
curved fruit
who hath
over centuries,
you are worth
69 cents
at Trader Joe’s
and 2 points
in Weight Watchers
but you are more
than your numbers,
you glorious
well of

There is no such thing
as perfection
and the banana
is our greatest reminder of this
I don’t know about you
but it is nearly impossible
to find a banana
that isn’t banged up and rotting
on the inside–
maybe that’s just me.

But you,
lying there
on my kitchen counter
seducing me
with your natural sugars
and green-yellow skin,
you are the closest to perfect
I could find
at the store.

Eating bananas in public,
if you look like a woman,
guarantees at least one person
and thinking gross thoughts.

I peel back your skin
and stuff you in my mouth,
my mind flashes
to images of
and also
I am
an adult.

Thank you,
you were delicious.
Bananas are like snowflakes:
delicate, distinct.
There shall be no other bananafruit
quite like you,
my dear.


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