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Feeling Like A Fish

May 8, 2020

Pandemic Poems Vol 2

Feeling like a fish
in a fish bowl
upon waking.
No punctuation
of what day it is.
Time doesn’t matter—
it blurs into the long expanse of days
and months.
I’d swim around in the fishbowl
of my apartment—
no map, no calendar.
Just swimming around
upon waking
feeling like a fish
in a fish bowl.

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