(too many pebbles to count, here,
will my bones rest? turn in circles until
the world is concave and too bright in
do fish dream of suicide,
breathe, breathe, breathe-- will air catch
the space between gills-- between
flying, leap (grasp of momentum) of something bold
(was it courage? boredom
in four glass walls,
their beige cubicles)
choking on oxygen they can only
hope to breathe.
do fish feel regret?
gravity only works one way
slick linoleum all stone
no water this empty, empty land.