Poetry: Linguistic Bananas
One fine evening, I asked for poetry prompts, and a friend asked me to write a poem about bananas, the linguistic kind. I had to look it up. This was about three years ago, and it's still silly. Fruit Flies Like A Banana, Part 1: “Mine,” snarked the snail. “No, mine!” cried the slug. “WE SHALL DESCEND AS A HOARD UPON THIS AND CLAIM IT AS OUR ANCESTRAL BIRTHRIGHT,” claimed the fruit flies. Thus was there a bloody war over the forgotten banana carelessly thrown under the bush. Fruit Flies Like A Banana, Part 2: Whenever they flapped their leaves, they tried very hard to mimick the grace of the yellow boomerang swirling in the air, leaving a smoothie in its wake. Ah, if only they could be content with the reality of being far-flung instead of trying to be what they were not. Fruit Flies Like A Banana, Part 3: But I’m not sure that this is a good idea; banana trees may only produce a single bunch in their lifetimes, but they also never stop growing and ...