“We don’t know what’s going to happen to the fish”
He says
Stirring his black coffee with his finger
“The turtles? Oh, they’ll be just fine.
But we don’t know what will happen to the fish.”
I clench the plastic cup holding my vanilla latte
He speaks with an air of nonchalance
More focused on the pattern of the wooden table separating us
Then the fate of these poor creatures
I’ve never gave much love to the fish
Prancing in the river by my dorm building
But knowing that their home will be stolen from them
Knowing that they don’t know their home will be stolen for them
My heart weighs heavy with a sickening sadness
There’s a bridge I cross to go to my home
It stands directly above the river
Every day I stare out beyond the railing
To watch the river turn into a valley of mud
Thick, dark, revolting mud
Invading the beautiful river with the rainbow waters
Turning it into nothing more than a murky puddle
With a million vibrant orange fish desperately swimming around
Wondering what happened to their beloved paradise
Wondering why they deserve to be crowded like cattle
In a modern hell
The workers tell me their suffering is for the benefit of us
How this pipeline will be easier to access
Easier to fix when there’s something annoying our perfect paradise
“After all,
Do you really think that fish give a damn about you?”
No
They don’t
I know that
So it’s stupid
That I’m worried about the fish
But if I had their small fins and colorful scales
If I found my home being crushed into nothingness
I would wish someone out there
In this populated world
Would give a damn about me