Sunday, November 06, 2005

Ode to a Piece of Fruit


Here is a poem I wrote a few years ago:

Ode to a Piece of Fruit

I love you,
Speckled banana.
You are whole
Unto yourself.
Neither the siamangs of Sumatra
Nor the nectar bats of Brazil
Have ever truly unpeeled the skin
Of your mysteries.

Picked too soon,
You are bitter and green
Plucked too late,
You turn to mush.
But heated by the flame of the flambé stick
And the embrace of whiskey,
You reveal a truth we should have always known:
Your longing for custard cream is only surpassed
by your passion for chocolate.

O golden-brown banana,
No one can say that I desired only
plump ripe plums,
Small, mysterious kumquats,
Or impudent lychee nuts.
No,
You are first, last and always in-between
Each course I serve upon the table
Of my earthly home.

5 comments:

John said...

You cruel little monkey. All that and not one single sample on which to nibble.

(yes, I know you're not a monkey, that's why I said it, cuz it was cruel to post all that tastieness during my dinner time)

J

Brad the Gorilla said...

Hitman J,
I'm not a monkey, you're a monkey. No wait, let me think a moment...

Hitman J, you are a Tassel-eared marmoset. A-ha! That'll shiver your timbers.

John said...

I think that little bugger is quite cute.

J

Hazed said...

Keep it up, Brad. You may be the first published gorilla on earth. I'd love to see that.

Brad the Gorilla said...

Friday,
When I publish my book, I will send you a copy. Also one to Hitman J, Nonny, LH... actually, you may all have to share one book, ho ho.