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      October 29, 2015CleaningKatrina Outland

      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 #49 - Fall 2015

      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.”