Plenty of Fish

Yes, there are plenty of fish
Yet, they are fish
Scaly and gilled to their limited habitats
They mingle in parties
Beholden to cults and currents, these
Predators who are prey
Nibbling, nibbling on anything that might appease
Insatiable belly voids, this
Life who is lifeless
I see no Rodin at the gates
Merely flash, tail and feints
Amid soaking and fecundity