Fish Can't Talk

Way beyond normalcy lives reality
So now, sitting on this bench amidst some town
I try to recreate my life, shelve it, cluster it in my memories
And I can’t – it’s sporadic and lacking integrity

Maybe I should’ve been born into a primitive form
I’d swum in the sea and one day a big fish
Would gulp me
Or maybe I should’ve become a monk
Estivation in the cocoon of neverlife
Pre-determined, pre-approved, pre-disposed

The air I breathe lacks ozone
Or maybe it’s just my life is a no zone for freshness
Although I observe others
Walking by
And they seem to be just as uncertain
Scared, frustrated, depressed

“How are you?” a neighbor walks by
shares his tiresome smile
turns his head and walks away
trying to fish nothing other
than “I’m fine, thank you.”