fish 1 (explored)

“But nothing i ever gave was good for you;

it was like white bread to goldfish.

they cram and cram, and it kills them,

and they drift in the pool, belly-up,

making stunned faces

and playing on our guilt

as if their own toxic gluttony

was not their own fault

 

there you are, still outside the window,

still with your hands out, still

pallid and fish-eyed, still acting

stupidly innocent and starved.”

 

Margaret Atwood, Morning in the Burned House

 

Done