Goldfish Balloon

Goldfish, with that string
you hang,
inflated, puffy, fluffy, bloated, drifting
through the sky above your earth.
As though a child had let you go,
the breeze now blows you, to and fro,
your colon swollen as you patiently give birth.

My orange kite with flowing tail,
those flakes of food, I fed you well,
yet you don't pinch them off
to fall
.
..
.
.
to depths below.
But don't you know
that's hanging there?
Are you aware that people stare,
amazed that thing could grow so long and not let go?

This only makes me feed you more,
to answer questions and explore...
What tensile strength has this creation that you've made?
It dangles down -- brown trailing rope,
the crabs below wave arms and hope
like greedy children reaching out at a parade.

Oh, buoyant blimp, your anchor drops!
You rise a little, then you stop,
your bladder balanced, fins a-flapping, weight aweigh.
Into the wind, you float again
and I would feed you, little friend,
but I've already fed you seven times today.