Remember, this could be you. Oh wait . . .

It already is. Feeding fish in a pond. Crazed over a few bites and stale breadcrumbs, crumbled from my hands. Two two-day old cinnamon raisin bagels. Nothing more. I need this, sitting here, thinking about the fish frenzied and non- thinking. Watching suckers gulp chunks of bagel like wishes, and sunnies vomit the subtle spicy fragrance of cinnamon. I am government, on its park bench above the plane of water and commonality; surface tension or the distinction of class? One knows and the other either doesnt care or is too stupid. As a person I hope it's the former because then it can be fixed. But as a fish, I am just hungry and the food is limitless.