-^-for posterity-^-

ode to the banana lady:

in the hot afternoon sun you stand
watching your bananas
burn

they sit on an old grill
about as old as the conical hat
that rests on your head

you turn them and watch them warm in the flame

students pass with empty minds and stomachs
you egg them on
buy your bananas before they get cold
they are not burnt
perfect

'buy one for 10 cents!'
'buy two for 20!'

you cry to them but most do not hear

the bananas are well browned
they are perfect except for their dusty taste
the first time you put one in your mouth
it tastes like
paper
or
cardboard

inside, however, is a fleshy mess
the banana retains its normal, snot like texture
it is still full of life

teach us, oh banana lady
teach us how to cook
teach us how to live
and teach us how to remain fleshy
inside
and how to do so forever