Bananas, Carerra 12
Carrera 12
Bananas. All together now.
We don’t live in a market. All together now under this wooden cart. Tossed and placed, placed and bundled, we sweat. All together now, we ripen with the day. There’s no movement until summoned by a patron for fruit: ‘guava, mango, banana’. And then we bruise and brown with distress, finally our freedom, momentary – then an edible end.
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