Gallons and gallons of bubbly brine
liters and liters of precisely calibrated,
perfectly aerated saline,
I'm an aquarium
sitting high on legs of iron filagree;
an imaginative think tank
of quavery wishes and fishes darting like cunning thoughts;
drop me a pellet-
I'll dissolve it and shine
all the more clearly for it.
Like flexible question marks
through my corals, angelfishes glide-
unblinking rove their eyes
that notice everything;
they park, back paddle, squat
but can't decide
if there's life beyond the top.
'Oh, well, ' they sigh,
we shall know when we get there.'
Press your nose against my side.
Notice my bubble-maker-
its bubble-spitting pipe of plastic, clear,
its nest of graying angel's hair
Don't you marvel I appear
never to tire of holding my gallons in
like an endless inspiration?
Well, here's the take-home:
a black bottom makes every color brighter-
flamier reds, azure, blues once pale,
irider oranges- (didn't you know? Hey,
and you call yourself a designer!)
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Aquarium I by Morgan Michaels )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- Plants Hurt, Naveed Akram
- Truth Lies - Kid's Stuff -howtobuilddefe.., sEaN nOrTh
- My love for my birth land, binod bastola
- Critically Evaluating…Lois Lerner's 'Tru.., James B. Earley
- My wondrous dream, Nalini Chaturvedi
- Hues of Green, Joy Cordwell
- FOR ALL BELIEVERS, Tom Zart
- Sibling Oath, Frederick J.B. Moore II
- one hundred and twenty two miles, days, .., Mandolyn ...
- Godwin's Farm, Naveed Khalid