(Just so you know, I usually take a walk after breakfast. And as I leave the dining room I may take a banana with me)

I see this guy walking down the street
with a banana. Switching it from hand
to hand as if he doesn’t know  what
to do with it. Well, actually
I’m that guy. I want to write this
from the point of view of another
person. I want to see what he sees.
I should add that I (me again) do know
what to do with that banana.  I, as
noted, switch it from hand to hand.
But let’s get back to my third person
persona. Hey, look, he’s looking up
in the sky, like he’s looking for a word.
Maybe he’s writing a poem. I’d
like to see that.  I bet it will be
really stupid.

Ya think?

Response by Jordan Trethewey

Ed, Ed, Bo-Bed

Here comes that guy again,
shaking his banana,
passing it from hand
to hand.
He appears to be juggling,
though not progressing
past step 1.
His peripheral vision
is superior—
never looks down,
Never loses his berry—
ending up on his arse
in a slapstick routine.

Sometimes his lips move,
brief pauses punctuate
external evidence
of an internal monologue.
Half-closed lids, partial smile,
and a sing-song step,
lead one to conclude
a search is underway
for another name
to insert in this game.

Image credit:Scott Sanker

Edmund Conti is neither a poet nor an artist, which doesn't stop him from versifying and drawing.  He also doesn't play the piano or tap dance but wishes he could.  He doesn't live with a cat, either, which makes for a skimpy bio note.