8oz of water 

the day of surgery you can only drink 8oz 
of water & i want to use mine to house
a goldfish. i want to get it right this time.
it seems like all my goldfish died too young.
they ask if i have a living will & i say no.
the thing about goldfish is if they get sick
no one tries to save them. i asked my parents
to take my goldfish to the doctor when the fish sank
to the bottom of the tank, staring blankly into 
the blue pebbles, i imagined a doctor in a white coat 
dipping his stethoscope in the fish bowl. 
He would nod & give us a little jar of pills to save 
the fish's life. we never flushed our fish 
down the toilet like normal people. i ask
them where the parts of human bodies go
that get cut off during surgery & they
say "medical waste." we buried the fish
behind the garage. i made them tombstones
from scrap wood. another one of our fishes 
had a stroke which made the fish bend in half
& swim in circles. i hadn't realized until
then that fish could have strokes, that fish 
had so much body like we do. blood & organs.
no one performs surgery on a fish. it's 
not worth it. the oldest goldfish on record
lived to be 43 which is nearly twice as 
old as i am. if i met that goldfish i would
grow gills & crawl into the tank with 
the fish & ask him about what he knew
of life. i would tell the fish that i imagine
"going under" for surgery will be a lot
like living in water & it excites me
fish stares forward beyond the walls
of the tank. i wonder if i would be a more 
insightful creature if i also couldn't blink.
i kiss the fish on the forehead & thank him.