bruised baNana

From a different port. Entry.
Reenter.
The Monday mayhem as they call it.
From the south,
I release.
East.
Beasts-of crowds and flurries. In a hurry. Hurry.

Like my bruised banana, eyes stand.
Still.
Swaying.
Curved. Clenching. Withholding the
u n a v o i d a b l e
heaviness.

Back and brain-extended train. journey from Games and Guess.
Quest.
For less. Stress.
More blinks, links.
Relinquished-
for tock of this tick ing in my mind..
will nOt stOp.

This woman has been staring.
Glaring.
Without shame..
Into, onto, at me. For a multitude of minutes, I test. Her. Write. Look up. Stare. Look down. Look up.
Stare. Stare. Stare. Stare. Stare.

Caught every time.
She
is
worn.
Possibly unraveling, like much is...

Waking in higher spirits, I walk gently.
Slowly-
in preparation to peel that bruised banana...

and take a bite.