<( * )( * )>

This cement structure, this gray foundation covered in slippery ice, now this is the Brenke Fish Ladder, I am certain. Surrounded by sloshing green water in a series of descending moats, I start at the top and work my way down, segment by segment.

This descending moat feeds back into the river diverted into it. I have an impulse to run away; what horrible thing will happen if I descend? What has conditioned me to feel frightened now of these icy steps and flowing water, and what will I learn by going past my normal marker of when not to indulge? My life has come to a halt, like a snow globe tipping up and down, and the scene inside feels more and more empty.

To reach the lowest level, I walk sideways on ice past graffiti on structure doors, walls, steps, metal bars. One door has two outlines of a man’s cute, bubbly testicles and shafts with puffy tips, the word, “sukkr” written below one of them and the other drawn over a dripping, white heart. To the left in small, black lettering someone has written, “I want to taste UR cum” and “show me UR DIK!”, but above it all in large white capital letters it reads: “PAIN,” the title of this entire artwork.

As I reach the lower levels of Brenke’s Fish Ladder, what am I learning about my humanity? Do I access the basest part of myself, is it all about desire, “DIK!”, “UR cum”, seeing and tasting another person? This is a top-heavy fraction with “PAIN” as the numerator. How to simplify it, what comes out whole, what remains divided?