The Waiting Rooms Fish Tank Poem by Sandy Player

'I think it's a Butterfly Goodeid'
She said at the fish tank whilst the boy
Stared the green paper waste bin down.
It stuck to his eyes like dry blood on a dirty wound.

I spent a minute or two in the toilet and came back to the waiting room.
The woman said to the boy, who remained stuck
In his noiseless, motionless duelling, an unfortunate arctic explorer
Incubated by ice,
'Yes, it's definitely a Butterfly Goodeid'...