I read somewhere
(under a soft drink bottle cap, actually)
that goldfish have an attention span
of just five seconds,
not long enough for a haiku,
let alone this poem.

When I enter the room,
my trio of orange-finned friends
greets me, heads bobbing above the surface,
mouths agape, working perfect O’s
like a silent Greek chorus.

I cast mealy pellets on the water
and they gobble them up gratefully,
as though tasting them for the very first time.
Their lives are full of constant surprise –
turn the corner of the tank,
and there’s a new friend to greet them,
real or reflected.
They flit and flash like bangles,
moving through water and momentary joys.

I wonder what that life would be like,
tasting each moment like a new dish du jour.
We’re so much smarter than that, I say.
But then, attention spans are eroding away
under constant barrages of MTV,
multitasking, sound-bitten news,
thrown up on glass walls,
every time we turn a corner.
And as for me, I got my research
from under a bottle cap.

02/02/2003

Posted on 02/02/2003
Copyright © 2026 Bruce W Niedt