Fish Out of Water

The drugs;
I think I tire of them,
lack of efficacy,
failing body.
My neck reminds me
of a flapping
fish out of water,
bending at the
weight of my head
as though it were
a fishbowl
precariously
balanced now,
sloshing with water.
The goldfish,
gasping for air.
And I’ve noticed
how the gills,
they heave,
“in, out. Up, down.”
as though I were
watching an
aerobic exercise
in survival
in the presence
of this
unnamed disease
that wastes
the muscles
of a mermaid,
she was,
who only thought
she had legs.

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