Wednesday, January 26, 2005

Memoirs of a Banana

Men creep around,
take my measure,
denigrate my size,
discuss Freud's theory
about penis envy
in loud voices
ad infinitum.

I ignore them.

Women peel me
with gentle hands.
Swallow me
with warm mouths.
I have given my life
many times
for the love
of a good woman.

Once I starred in a movie.
W.C. Fields.
Mae West.
Lord, that woman
adored me.

That was my finest hour!

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

nice and round and poem as fiction ....friction causing is always good; mine you, Yo!...sentiments sash shay and mind the possiable...

inlow wants the "dish" chapbook ...we order this week..

Anonymous said...

As a voracious consumer of these delicious fruit - now fast approaching 75 years old - I can testify to their life-giving properties - and their erotic possibilities!

from The Old Fruit (name witheld to protect the innocent)

Ed Tieman said...

Drifting

It is time to go for a walk
Down to the waters edge
To sit and gaze at the stars above
To let the mind relax
To let the body relax
Upon a driftwood log
To drift about
Like a driftwood log
Upon the sea
Feeling its rhythmic flow
Close your eyes now
To imagine
You are that driftwood log
Upon the sea


The Spirit Weaver