I was walking through this house and a spider the size of my hand and with an abdomen as thick as a kielbasa, started walking towards me. It chased me through the house like a dog. A man was standing at the end of the hallway, watching. “Aren’t you going to do something?’ I said. “This is your spider, isn’t it?” “Have you eaten yet?” he said.” “I haven’t, actually. What’s on the menu?” I said. “We have steamed clams and asparagus with Béarnaise,” he said. “Asparagus arranged on a plate reminds me of a skeleton’s hand,” I said. “Of course, there was the time I found a cave out behind the old drive in, and told myself if I went down it far enough I’d end up in another world, one where skeletons walked. I guess I was so scared as a child that any world where death was apparent or inevitable was preferred.” “You were a freak. When is the last time you got a massage?” He said. He was trying to distract me. “Listen, I don’t know what you’re up to, but tell your spider to back off,” I said. He ran over to it and started speaking in tongues to it. I had that feeling. “Can you wiggle your fingers for me?” The doctor said. I was sitting on a table in the doctor’s office with this prostheses attached to me. “Is sticking my hand in the fireplace a no, no?” I said. “No, you can. It might bring some of the feelings back, he said.” “How about a knife? I said. “Knives are good. Just cut through, not at,” he said. “Focus Danielson,” I said. “Be the target,” he said. “My hand looks like a spider wiggling there,” I said. “Are you going to name it?” He said. “The first thing I am going to do when I get home is make the garage door come down on it.” I said. “That’s the spirit,” he said. I was beginning to feel loved. “What if I kick you across the room right now,” I said. “I’d be in your debt,” he said. I kicked him and he toppled back into the computer. He stood up and brushed his pants off. “Like I said, if there’s anything I can do for you,” he said. My luck was changing.
Published by Chris Russell
Hi, I'm Chris, and thank you so much reader for visiting my blog and wanting to learn a little bit about me. I know time is a hot commodity these days, more so now than ever I think, which is why it’s my hope that you make it a priority to read my poems under some low light when you have some time on your hands and can really read and reread them closely and experience something shining in them. It’s my sincerest hope that they make you want to look at yourself, your world, and poetry itself a little differently, while they also encourage you to be more kind and gentle with yourself and others. I know when I read a poem, regardless of its subject, I expect to feel asked in and touched by its speaker. Sometimes it happens. Sometimes it doesn’t. That’s the way it goes, right? It would be great though if some of these poems brushed against you. As for when I write, it’s always my intention to lift and exteriorize more understandably complex emotions and states of consciousness I’m currently experiencing, and it's usually through an analysis and highly conscious reframing of my childhood that this happens, though I’ve been known to veer into writing surreal-like absurdism and allegorical prose poetry when the wind splits me that way. Where am I on the planet? This MFA in Writing fossil with an ever expanding Dad bod now lives and works in Concord, New Hampshire where I currently divide much of my time between writing, blogging, assisting middle school students who have special needs, and navigating the journey that is my own really unimpressive, but no less valuable dark night. From my own cave in the wilderness, I’d like to say thanks again for stopping by and spending some of your invaluable time. I invite you to please put your feet up and subscribe for a while, and if you’re feeling moved by one of my poems please share it with a dear friend, preferably someone who doesn’t like poetry. View all posts by Chris Russell