Like a silvery fish pulled out of the dark water.
And so the opportunity for confusion
or clarity is intensified seven times.

The camera shakes, disorienting—
attached clandestinely to a belt,
hidden below a backpack worn front-wise,

it enters the market through an aisle between
two ice covered, shallow cases that hold numerous fish,
some still moving—a cod head, disembodied,

opens its life hole repeatedly, as if
respiring, occupying the transitional state
between tank life and the next, the state of ice,

and then the interior of the fish market,
beyond the ice trays, tanks filled with separate species,
each tank large enough to hold a full grown person inside.