“Cleaning” by Katrina Outland

Katrina Outland

CLEANING

I almost laughed when I corrected

without thinking

the man on TV describing the proper

way to slice open the body

of a fish. Not, as he said,

starting at the throat slicing down;

it’s much easier, I said

to go the other way and it was you

tiptoeing your eyes towards me

that almost made me laugh

like the maniac you imagined me to be

so I shut up. It’s not your fault

you could never understand how easy

it is to learn the numb sodality with death

how even at that moment

my hand muscles were recalling the precise

grip around the tail, knife point

in the vent—soft opening

for all the unpleasant fluids—

and one smooth slash up

through intestine, stomach, esophagus

blade like an apathetic decision

between asymmetrical liver lobes,

snug into the crook of operculum—

name perfectly round and protective—

around that plate of bone splaying

the brilliant fringe of gills.

The heart a tiny gem tumbling out.

One slice, anus to mouth,

through shit and acid and blood

one smooth motion from whole

to empty.

It’s much easier this way,

to draw that line between

living and hollow

starting at the most

vulnerable point, avoiding

teeth and bone, the death

a clean surprise

ending on a still tongue.

My hands remember each one

became skilled at carving

at recognizing so well the ease

from one side of that delicate

edge to the other.

—from Rattle #49, Fall 2015
Tribute to Scientists

__________

Katrina Outland: “Though I was born in the deserts of Wyoming, I somehow developed a lifelong obsession with the ocean. Directing that love to the sciences, I moved to Hawaii to earn my Bachelor of Science in marine biology, where I first got to dive with sharks in the wild. After that, I moved to Washington state where, for the past eight years, I have been a field sampler for the state Fish and Wildlife Department. Basically, I get to travel around to gorgeous fishing spots and fill out a lot of data sheets with my slime and fish scale-covered hands. One year of my life was also spent gathering fisheries data onboard Alaskan commercial fishing boats for the National Marine Fisheries Service. That was very cold. Both science and poetry have so deeply entrenched themselves into my life since childhood that I find it stranger to try to separate them than to note their differences. Both are different aspects of exploring the truth in life. Just as creative thinking has opened new solutions in my fisheries career, scientific thinking has directed my poetry to be more honest and examine the intricacies beyond the surface appearance of things. Strangely enough, I know a lot of biologists who don’t like to write, and I know a lot of poets who don’t like dissecting things, so I particularly revel in getting both out of their comfort zones.”