Spotted Like a Leopard

I've been working away on all the toys my friend gave me. Everything is labeled, hooked-up, and running. Can ya believe that? We'll see. Here's a poem and a couple of pictures.

Bananas Won’t

stop, but they are

kind.  Bad weather
might turn them
until their welcome
wanes, then they sulk
around like aged,
spotted leopards.

Possessing more useful

potassium than a car,
though not nearly as
environmentally destructive–
gas burners being so
bad in puddings–

it seems natural

to worship one.  Nothing
is more in the air.  Invisible
vapors introduce the smell
of new brake-shoes on
steep grades: smoke roiling

from hot, dry skillets.

“Save the peels!”
hippies use to say.  Maybe
that’s a good idea.  Bananas
degrade so completely they
make the earth grow black.