In Which I Find Myself Reeling Somewhere Outside of Independence, Iowa

I work at Petland.

In the fish department I am sitting high up on a ladder aqua-scaping.
It is only kind of movie sad for I want to melt my whole arm,
but only up to the sleeve,
far beyond the knowings of surface tension.
It is only satisfying to know that I will make very little mess
while rearranging the sunken ruins
of Colosseum's and plastic pirate ships.
As I move from tank to tank,
I am unbattle torn like a gladiator or a Magellan.
Yet, I just want to be those things inside of tanks and
dip my whole being down beneath the substrate.
A sand bed where I could be buried by the weight
of supposedly life healing water.
And if I had gills too, I'd breathe another dollar
that I owe to 'the man.' The hand that feeds me flakes
of other ground up dream meal.
There would be a child poking my glass shouting
why I wasn't moving fast enough.
I am a piece of substrate sinking deeper and deeper.
Find me in the back.

I work at Petland.

-sonja lynn mata