Steve the Goldfish

Praise fishtanks, giving a nice visual
way of forgetting him (also praised)
dying in the other room. Praise the fish inside,
trapped within glass walls, a prison of coral, weeds, distorted

companions. Being well fed, dying
happy on a bed of lies, disguised as rocks,
unanimous like dancers at a masquerade,
praise that.
Still though, how long until they realize
their world is but a box.

He once said, "ignorance is bliss," chuckling.
I would believe him if he wasn't dead.
Sleeping
with the fishes.