You could tell the wading nurse shark did not care.
A mess of jellyfish lost to alien considerations.
A fleet of neon Tetras like tiny drops of blood.
Unbothered rays in that slow circling trance.
Busied plecos, the janitors of the joint.
A lionfish on the warpath.
Clownfish, guppies, German blue rams…
Not one took any notice.
Of the child who had pulled his shirt arm back.
Flexing a tiny bicep covered in these many fake tattoos.
All the other kids with their mouths against the glass.
In spite of the many warnings.
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Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a Canadian-born author who lives in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his wife and many bears that rifle through his garbage. His work has been published both in print and online in such places as: The New York Quarterly, Red Fez, Evergreen Review, International Times, Himalaya Diary, Huffington Post, Blue Collar Review, GloMag, and The Oklahoma Review. He enjoys listening to the blues and cruising down the TransCanada in his big blacked out truck.
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