Survival of the Fittest Feeder Fish by D.S. Jones

Poem title: Survival of the Fittest Feeder Fish

Poet name: D.S. Jones

Poem: Minnows I saw in the smallest creek in my town.

Boys playing in the water, seeing life

where it was born.

Caught in a jar, they die.

Later, at the pet store, seeing feeder mice

I was a teenager now.

Buy a snake, eating feeder mice.

Only live, you see, for that special snake.

Goldfish, for your pet piranha.

No names, no faces.

Coaxed in to being from the earth.

But am I a feeder human?

Then how will we be consumed?

The answer is that soon all life

will start to communicate,

fish and humans and all life forms,

here and to the farthest galaxy.

I will go back to the creek

(if it still exists) and meet the minnows.

We will share old stories,

they watched us but didn’t say much

at the time.

Next it will be my turn to watch life.

Find a good spot, maybe an adobe hut

in the teeming desert.

Watch and learn.

Cities will disappear.

Life will change.

End of poem.

Credits and bio: Copyright © D.S. Jones

D.S. Jones is a letterpress printer living in Newmarket, Ontario with his wife, and dog.