Eat the grapes, or the plums. Leave the bananas,
his mother said. Bananas were only for special occasions.
When he went to someone’s home,
if offered bananas, he wasn’t supposed to take them.
It was considered rude, his mother had told him.
They are too much.
Now, in America, bananas are commonplace.
To me, they aren’t even one of the better fruits.
He eats them sometimes,
but you can tell
he doesn’t really know
what to do with them.
I never liked bananas.
When I was a kid, I turned my nose up at them.
He was counting the days until he might get one,
and we just let them go brown on the counter, until my dad
made banana bread or mushed them up in oatmeal.
We bought a bright, new bunch every week.
Nancy Smith is an Assistant Professor in
the School of Information at Pratt Institute.
She received her PhD from Indiana University
and her MFA from the University of San Francisco.
Her work has been published in Santa Fe Writers Project,
The Rumpus, McSweeney’s, Compose,
Your Impossible Voice, and elsewhere.
She can be found online at: somequietfuture.com
Featured Image: Experiments on Fabric by paoladelacalle