But when Necessity's yoke was put upon him . . .
Aeschylus, Agamemnon

Tight as a package flying to the island,
how many times I've snuffed stale air,
craned and peered out the stamp-sized window,
seen tiny islands, infinitely thirsty,
soaking up the sea and never sinking.

A fish will hit itself against curved glass
over and over and silently slide off
and nose through sand or plastic weeds or rub
bellies with fellow fish and possibly wonder
what kind of cosmos
slants beyond its bubble.

Fish in a fishbowl, swimmer
out of sight of land-
I have become you both,
...