When I began the poem, I had no idea what I was going to do with it. Furthermore, I had no idea how I was going to end the poem. This happens a lot. Sometimes I have the ending of a poem in my head and have to backtrack in order to get to that ending. Sometimes I have the middle of a poem in my head and have to figure out the beginning and the end. Sometimes I have nothing more than a couple of rhyming lines or just a couple of words in my head and have to figure out how to build a poem out of that. And sometimes, as in this case, I have the beginning but have no idea how to end the poem.
As I worked on the poem and thought more and more about bananas, I asked myself why a bridge built out of bananas wouldn’t work. The answers were obvious: Bananas are too soft, they’re not strong enough, they get even softer and eventually get rotten, and so on. Let’s face it, a bridge built out of bananas is going to fall down pretty quickly.
Eventually a way to end the poem popped into my head. The same thing can happen when you write a poem. Keep thinking and thinking about your subject, and more often than not, the ending will occur to you.
I’m Building a Bridge of Bananas
I’m building a bridge of bananas,
it’s pretty, but not very strong.
Bananas are not very sturdy,
bananas don’t last very long.
Initially green, and then yellow,
increasingly speckled with brown,
inevitably, as they ripen,
it’s clear that my bridge will fall down.
My bridge is developing fissures
and even some sizable gaps.
It’s senseless to try and repair it,
I might as well let it collapse.
It waggles and sags in the middle,
it wobbles and droops at the ends,
and so I’ve alerted my neighbors,
as well as my family and friends.
They’re trucking in freezers of ice cream
of every last flavor that’s made,
plus whipped cream and chocolate syrup,
both of a premium grade.
They’re bringing me barrels of walnuts,
and cherries without any pits—
we’ll shortly be sharing delicious
gigantic banana bridge splits