The Banana King (standard:other, 1166 words)
Author: mr shaw	Added: Mar 06 2002	Views/Reads: 3400/2115	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
the ramblings of a man from a Beat(en) generation

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

I sell bananas, he dances. I know a dog who had no nose. We can't see
the town, the higher we climb, the further it goes away. A man can pass 
me by, he has that right, but I can say my piece make my peace with my 
world. 

Close my eyes and think of England. Is it still here? I haven't been for
so long. I've been selling bananas for so long so long see you later. 

-	Hey! 

These bananas are my life. I see the world pass by with my golden eye
and the yellow turns greens up on my plate. 

It's like that really. Really it is, would I lie to you? My oldest,
coldest friends passing by on your own tracks. Parallel lines, taking 
bends, faking for friends. 

And where's the ticket to? Return? Hope not. I got one, off-peak.
Single. Cheaper. No point wasting. Destination one, disembarkation, and 
the tannoy God gave me the answer a dancer a trancer. So I sat down and 
got my bananas out. 

Won't you buy my lovely bananas, best quality you can buy. Buy them for
your kids wife mundane life. Look for the stars in the middle. They are 
there, but don't say I told you. Slice crossways, and it's always 
there. May be yours has seven, nine, seventy nine. Mine has five 
points. May be yours does too. Just buy one and see. 

See-saw. Do-did. Can-could. 

If a parakeet flies through the jungle, colours flashing, clashing in
the wet sunlight, how many men would live in a cage? That bird doesn't 
know until it's not free. 

Florence Nightingale sang in a Belgian field. And look where she ended
up. No longer legal, but still tender. Like all nurses. Starched neat 
and proper with blood on their hands. World leaders and butchers look 
on in envy. Look at me with envious faces Buy my goods, my saving 
graces. 

A security blanket from the cold of my mind, just a bunch of bananas,
the best you will find. But don't go looking on supermarket shelves, 
just in yourselves, and may be you'll know, the rules of the game, the 
tracks of the train, golden bird in the rain. 

I can't tell you to stay at home, only parents and doctors can, but
stray outside your door to the rest of the world and look around and 
find it. The answer is there. In timetables. On bank notes. Menageries. 
Ice cream floats. 

Wherever you look it will be there. God knows. I see it everywhere. It's
there for those who don't seek it. If you know the secret just leak it. 
Let it out like your pants. Let the rest of them know, at the end of 
the line there's nowhere else to go. 

My words are simple, but they hold a key – B Minor. Stay small, or walk
tall, but don't search at all. Everyone has an answer. There's billions 
all over the world, dotted like crumbs in a carpet. One for every 
banana boy and girl. When you find it TAKE A PRIZE. Sit on you hill. 
Close your eyes, And wonder why you can't see the town, down all 
around, but beyond your reach. You'll be left to dance. All alone. 

Or perhaps you can join me and sell fruit. Oranges. Or apples. Or pears.
Not bananas. I sell bananas. I'm the Banana King. 


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