One Fish

He sits in wait, excitement being expelled from his fingertips.

Eyes wide, heart empty. The stare hard and hot on his back,

The mere pressure brought by a look that passes unnoticed.

The glassy eyed teacher with robotic arms calls on number 4784,

Who stares upward, a slight smile draped across his pallid face,

At once glancing downwards, fingers running across the etchings on his arm.

 

A boy.

A mere boy.

Deindividualized

By a system that looks to

Control, looks to wipe the mind

Of all personal thought, all personal belief

A small, insignificant fish, swims in the pond,

A dash of silver, a thin line of bright, white thread,

Offering an escape from the unforgiving depths below.

The young fish, tempted by the baited trap, recognizes the tall shadow.

 

A day without a bite for the puppet master above.

Reviews

[Avani Chhaya]

i really like that you experiment with form - it is something that i need to do! keep taking risks in your poetry.

I really like this, from the format to the metaphor. Well done.

[Adam :P]

aw wow that was good. i liked this one alot.