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 Os
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 theres 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.
Were 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