“it’s not as easy as it seems,”
she said to no one who could hear,
“life inside a fishbowl,
it’s just one never ending sphere.”
“sun glares through the crooked glass
in a most unnatural way,
like the reflection in a mirror’s cracks,
or some dry, mishandled clay.”
“the light distorts and bows itself
invisible pinball,
once it drops, there’s no escape,
through mouth or thick round wall.”
“so I rearrange the furniture
and blow bubbles through my straw,
to pass the time, I play and rhyme,
guess that’s what living’s for.”
“no use in sweating small things,”
wait- can a fish even sweat?
“no good is born from worried ones,
there’s no benefit in the fret.”
she swam down deep then floated back
circling round and back around,
finding space in stagnant water
and silence in the sound.
Setting The Barre 