Dali’s Banana, 2022

Poetry for Queer Honi.

Art by Ellie Stephenson.

Drooping, like a nuclearised candle,  

Eyes, eyelids, limbs, legs, dregs into toes, 

Then mush of mice and man 

Which, against the Sun roars. 

Trunk & suppository, knitted into their banana-flop, 

Brain ticking ticking ticking, 

Its little magnets winding down the day of the binary ever-time. 

They’ll burn off before that, in the frenzy, 

The heat, the persistence of camembert.  

All on the needle of the atomic era, the candle 

The banana. 

Heroine and Mike in the banana as the candle burns within them. 

Mike’s arch in agony and mine as the tusks are thrown 

And throw us from beneath our Tartarus. 

Absinthe, interested, flows down our throats as we imagine together. 

And all the cheeses and eyelids and fruits a funeral pyre, 

On the curve of the curtain, and the trunk and the coffee lid, 

And the pencil-cases’ zipper 

And the street-corner in Redfern that wears its gum-stains with pride, 

And the lecturer’s raven hair 

And the camellias littering, in mandalas of doom 

the September pathways. 

From all my eyes that droop, into the world 

Radioactive and tainted with burns. 

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