I was suddenly racked by a tide of emotion
for the Fyffes banana I had just put back,
on account of a slight dark patch just below the stalk.
I found myself ruminating on the casual cruelty of the selection and rejection process,
And the unfairness of the banana having no say in how unblemished the consumer who chooses, purchases and eats it.
And in a defiant spirit of positive discrimination towards bananas
I chose the most beat up unbranded economy banana I could find.
It would be ok on toast.
But how does an economy banana know it’s an economy banana
And grow just that little bit blander than a deluxe one?
© LS King