the bananas that i’d bought
had, in turn, began to rot
and the squishiest of the lot turned black.
but you mustn’t blame the pot
see, it’s not that i forgot
it’s that the damned thing went bad before i got it home from Tom’s.
and it’s not like i can complain
when he’s got me on a chain
replace bananas with plaintains
and you’ve got yourself a deal.
in fact my friend i think it’s quite a steal,
just swear that you won’t squeal at my last meal.
2) “it’s a metaphor, stupid”
twenties scattered in a fan
forming throwbacks in the night
lightning flashing in the pan
frenzied hustle toward the light
of the newly spoken word
that my lips had yet to seek
a glistening magic, so absurd
upon one static downy cheek
heaves as softly as a ship
approaching coral reefs
on a stoned-in-moonlight trip
that you grip within your teeth
it bursts my bellflower balloon
and the scream is all maroon.