Fish Food
by Brod Bagert
If I could have a single wish
I think I’d like to be a fish.
Just think of all the things I’d see
if I could live beneath the sea.
I’m swimming alone, all by myself,
down past the continental shelf.
Deeper down, heart full of hope,
down past the continental slope.
Along the continental rise,
oh what a sight for a fish’s eyes,
the abyssal plain forever and ever,
but nothing will stop my exploring endeavor.
So as I begin my final descent
to a place no human ever went,
I have no fear, not one little bit,
as I enter what seems like a bottomless pit.
The ocean trench—30,000 feet down,
not a twinkle of light, not a jingle of sound.
If a monstrous creature were lurking below
I might swim right into it before I would know.
I imagine the horror in bloody detail—
being squished by a squid, being whacked by a whale.
It could happen, I’m suddenly forced to conclude.
Every fish in the sea can turn into fish-FOOD!
This isn’t so cool. This isn’t much fun.
Where am I going? What have I done?
The deeper I go, the deeper I dive,
the greater the chance I’ll be eaten alive.
I take it back! Forget the wish!
I never want to be a fish!
Forget the ocean! Forget the sea!
Dry land’s the habitat me!
Copyright 2014 Brod Bagert
