Into Life
Mouths that breathe like fish out of water
Faster then slower pursed lips then gaping mouths billowing chests and all
The fixed stare that gives its sense up and over to other sense and reflex
I can’t bear it
And am frightened
Of the dorsal fins fanning out to puncture the hand that wants the hook
Out of the mouth to throw the fish back in
I don’t blame the fish its indiscriminate violence it cannot know
It was my daughter's hand that threaded the bait and cast the line
She too wants them back in the water
But can’t let go of the desire
To catch what she can’t see but knows is teeming
An idea of absence a little Blue
Heron partakes in and dives after
Each fish I unhook and toss into life
And not once did the bird come up beak-filled or gulping
I eat fish same as I eat rabbit
Without nearing the look on its face
When my mother would grab it
By its long ears the blade approaching
Then skinning it by hand like peeling a banana
The fish’s pulled out and is plopped on the deck
Fluttering like a startled bird or an epileptic
I pin it down by the gills with my index
Retrieve the hook with my other hand
Then under and across its belly where the spikes are short
I dart it
That’s before I thought of a towel
That stare that white light
Of the day’s operating theater burning
The retina like a flash without an image
To behold a clean slate a blank page
A summation of color in the final cortex
(Which fishes don’t have)
Then the electric shock the pain of coming
Back into life
