Here is a Banana.

A very young man had been trying to peel a banana for three days for he was hungry. It takes great skill to peel a banana. Knowing there is no banana. That to name it is to bring it into non-existence. Indeed, he held the banana in his hand and believed in its apparent realism. But what is real is not always real to others. For example:  

There are those who see angels within the trees, those who see trees within the angels and those who only see wood.
The man stared at the banana which did not stare back but when the wind was crude he had to look away. It came to the point the wind became so offensive he had to put the banana down and ask his wife to peel it. She tried for three days and became weak and fell asleep. ‘’Edith wake up! Wake up Edith!’’  
The man had named his wife and she disappeared.  
He decided to give up trying to peel the banana and instead search for a new wife. He was quite assured that God would show him the way and would not reduce him down to the importance of good taste and money earned. What is there to be earned with money? The rich hands of a poor heart? It was during this time he met a woman with a rich heart and poor hands. He did not ask her her name and so began a courtship. While getting to know one another the man remarked  
‘’ I’ve been all round the world but the world has not been all round me’’.  

The woman replied ‘’ Yes, but what’s that got to do with anything?’’ and it didn’t and the man was too embarrassed to ever see her again. So, he planted flowers and made his bed and crossed his fingers and began going on long walks. He walked slowly among the ruins looking for signs of life. Flesh bordering on tears or tears bordering on flesh. For there is the sign made absent. A bargain is made and to avoid any ill dealings the man stitched his pockets but stitched pockets are always a sign of ill dealings. The man showed courage and sat under a tree. He sat there for over a week and to the town’s people he became a mysterious being. An entity, as it were, on the verge.
Crowds began to gather and the lesser of his truths began to fall out his mouth. His eyes now separating from his seeing, the crowd could not withstand the burden and so became disinterested and left him alone.  

He decided to go home and found his wife had reappeared for he had forgotten her name. He didn’t notice how she had lived or how she had died. In fact, it didn’t matter. All that mattered to him was what there was to eat. For he was hungry. His stomach rumbled with a growl for he held the roar of the world in a thought. Who understands the world within a thought? That the civilizations that occupy the world see you as their God? The man had not the heart to see his creation and so his creation did not believe in him.   

Now the throat of the banana speaks: ‘’The peeling of man takes great skill. Knowing there is no man. That to name it is to bring it into non-existence.’’  
The man thinks: Here is a banana.  
And nothing happened but the happening of the banana.  
The man couldn’t see what was happening but the banana happened anyway.   
The man had not yet happened but what happens never actually happens.  
The man gave up and never again tried to peel the banana.  
He and his wife went on to have three children. All girls who never actually happened.

Reviews

[Helen]

I really did love this story from the very first sentence. I enjoyed the style and the feeling that this story might appear as something lighthearted or frivolous, but I had the distinct feeling that it was speaking to my subconscious with a very important message - some existential truth. I will read it again when it is not so late at night and re-savor some of the delights such as "stitched pockets are always a sign of ill-dealings"

[R.J Calzonetti (Siniste..]

I feel like this is poking fun at writers and poets who try to sound deep but have nothing to say. If someone wants to be deep, I want it to be real. I want to be able to dig through the writing and uncover it. But people who pretend to have something to say, who make things complicated but have no reason or meaning to do so with, those people are the ones I feel should stick to writing simpler poems, or take the time to become deep on their own.