Saturday, October 29, 2005

Ode to the Banana Peel

As I stare at this Banana Peel on my desk
I wonder at it's forlorn exsistence
It lies broken and empty
A dead soldier in the battle against hunger

Maybe this soldier dreamt of sunny days in a carribean orchard
Maybe he dreamt of a long voyage by ship
Maybe he wanted the fun and exciting life of working in an ice cream shop
For a minute.

Maybe he had no dreams.
Maybe he is merely the skin of the ovary of a highly cultivated banana tree
From a rich tropical plantation
An ingenious design
A trick

To transport this valuable offspring to other more exotic locations
Maybe this banana tree said " I will give my child chances I never had here, trapped, forever rooted to this money hungry plantaion owner.
My child will be free

This hollow soldier before me lies alone and discarded
His head may have been filled with delicious and exotic recipes
Yet tragically, he has molted and been transformed to be passed passed passed


samantha said...

dang, don.

maybe we should turn on the heat.

still, you're a genius.

whitney Irwin said...

So that what happens when there is no heat!!!

Kevin said...

not only does don swaney write poetry, but he uses the word "ovary" in his poetry. that's down-right fancy mr. high society!

samantha said...

yes, whitney, in truth, it is a well guarded secret, but important historical fact that Socrates, Confucious, Robert Frost, Dylan Thomas, ee cummings,Ghandi and Mother Theresa were not only great thinkers, poets and humanitarians, but lived the largest portions of their lives in the uppermost regions of Denmark, Siberia, Norway, and Alaska, and as a group, they are sometimes referred to by the name "Popsicles with Pens" (think Bloomsbury group with frostbite).

yep. you heard it here first!