baby banana villans

there are baby bananas
that rot inside of dreams
there are bodies lined with fruit
soaking in heavy cream

there are guns back firing
leaking old strawberries
and it is sad
the flies were never on time
so they die
they die
they died

little villans hop in heads
they run around a host, till dead.
it is sad
that medicine never got them free
so they die
they die
they're dead.

Reviews

[celyn]

i have so many different ideas as to what this is about, it seems a little ambiguous.. but i could be wrong? either way, still brilliant. your writing never lets me down.

[scatterbrain]

i mean, not f--k. nevermind.

there are baby bananas
that rot insid of dreams
there are bodies lined with fruit
soaking in heavy cream

great lines, really great actually. borderline-genius. insid of dreams (if that's a mistake, then don't correct it).

and the bodies made of fruit... it actually made a positive image in my mind. i don't think you meant for it, but i immediately thought the poem would be a mix of bad with good.
i was wrong. and i don't like it because of that. the baby bananas are not the villains. they're rotting, whereas the villains hop inside our heads. baby bananas... that's way too inducing of positivity. and you really let down the reader, or at least myself. other people will love it (because they are writers, and they cannot touch the talent on this poem), but only because it invoked emotion. that's wonderful if you can evoke sadness, but happiness... that's how you reach.

i could f**k. just spilled a candle on ym keyboard. bye.

[scatterbrain]

f**k....

[scatterbrain]

another beautiful poem, but i don't like the