Supple apple
In the orchard
Glances over
To where Banana loiters.
“I’d eat your core, if you would let me”
Grinned the presumptuous plantain.
“Well, I never! Not unless you plan to wed me.
And even then, you are crass and rude and plain.”
“Wed you!? Ha!” scoffed the exotic fruit.
“I don’t yet know what’s beneath your crimson power suit.
Are you tastier with or without your skin?
Silly western sweets who turn down fun in fear of sin.”
Closer yet, the banana rocked
Fruit flies and the hint of abduction following.
Until his ‘pinch’ just below her stem
Sent our ladyfruit frantically rolling.
“How else do I know if you’re ripe?”
He called after her, bewildered.
She stopped (at a distance) to try and explain the discomfort that filled her.
“That’s not how you do it! I bruise! I bruise!
If you play the game like that, then leave now.
Good DAY sir, You lose!”
“But I don’t play those games.
I have too little time.
What if I said ‘you are glistening?’
Would that be just fine?
But wooing words are cheap and your peel is thin
(and useless once I’m inside-)
Yet you shield yourself with a fervor.
Now let me explain my side:
My peel is bitter
I’m even softer than you.
Without opening up
I’m just a boring, sulphur hue.
I didn’t ask to make a pie.
I simply wanted to screw
To know if you are crisp inside
or mealy or sour and overdue.
Now I’ll leave
But please don’t be offended
by my unwanted advances
No harm was intended.
Just remember that your looks made me hungry
to taste every bite that is you
which is an advantage I do not have-
inquisitive, persistent fruits are few.
Don’t take youth and beauty for granted
Or your seeds may never be planted.”
———————
That evening, these two made Ban-apple sauce
and then onward to that Smoothie in the Sky.
And where once there was only empty space
You’ll see an apple orchard
With peculiar blooms
When you rock on by.
thebookofbokonon 