Bananas

I could give two fucks about football.

Bananas, I love.

They are the reason we climbed into the trees,
and also the reason
we came down.
My first word,
nenal-nenal,
meant banana.

When you boil them
they taste like starchy potatoes
and go well with fish heads and coconut.

Fried, they are a crunchy sweetness;
nectar for the recently upright.

When blackened with time,
they are to be frozen then liquefied.

Of banananas,
food of brains,
I sing.

It is they I live for.

I cannot catch a ball
to save a life
but I am a born puncher

I listen to myself chew

I cry when I knock someone out
and remind myself I haven’t
come that far.