Siamese fighting fish

A spot of freelance topical fish consultancy today: the result was that Beth bought a gorgeous scarlet male Siamese fighting fish and three tiny neons for her new aquarium. As well as the fish, Beth also scored an unendorsed plastic SpongeBob SquarePants snail called Gary.

Once these were installed, Lorraine and I finished off painting her bathroom and toilet. And Lorraine drove me home, where I had a quiet night, chatting to Mum Mase and Toby, and thinking about work.

I wrote the following poem some time ago about being trapped by boredom, and the petty cruelties boredom can lead to. Boredom, as I have mentioned before, is an emotion I rarely experience. However the work I have been doing over the last month or so has, uniquely, made me feel trapped in my study.

Siamese fighting fish

bored stupid in my box room,
I taunt the fighter in its tank.

Betta splendens, a scarlet flag
unfurling from Java fern;

a murderous Narcissus
who falls madly for my mirror.

in the window my reflection
gloats over the rain-soaked suburb.

the fish aborts its mission.