Rotten Bananas
They wandered through town,
tan-skinned misfits hungry to get out
of the cold embrace of the house,
searching for sunlight in all the
wrong places. They strolled through
the toughened streets of East
Dallas, with their mongrel appearance
and the half kind of luck that only young
boys seem to possess.
After being chased by a pack of
wolverines, (they were really only
two scruffy mutts searching for scraps
to eat), this pack of lost boys wandered
into the corner store, in search of something
to humble their bellies. The owner eyed
them as they flooded the back of his store
with cat calls and the popping of
stale chewing gum.
They figured they'd try their luck:
"Hey, mister, can we have some of
these bananas?"
And to their surprise:
"You can have all the bananas you want,
boys."
Because these bananas were a dark brown,
and soft to the touch. Rotten.
But the boys hooted, grabbing handfuls,
and from then on, amidst their adventures,
stumbled in and picked those bananas up
with pride.
Years later,
my father would try and tell me stories from
his version of a poor and dust-filled
Neverland. But it wasn't until recently that
I began to understand what he meant
when he said,
"Those rotten bananas were the best I've ever had."
Copyright © Feli Elizab | Year Posted 2015
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