This Goldfish In A Small Bowl For An Aquarium... Poem by RIC BASTASA

at 34 degrees
summer comes here

the roads are fuming
like hot rods
of a machine

it is making flints
with the metal of the shoes

the city people
abandon their small rooms

for a beach in the village
white sands, and cool shades of the
palms


i stay here
writing a poem
like a goldfish
lurking
in an aquarium

it is cool here
in my little world
of silence.

i shut out with
a glass wall
buffered by
a bowl of water

when i speak
it is only me who hears
it.

i bubble
with happiness.