Tortellini Face, A Poem by Chris Russell

~ Chris Russell

Whenever I see someone walking a dog down the street

my face turns into a Tortellini and I start to feel like

I’m 9 again and about to protect an insecure kid

from being punched in the back by a future crack addict

bully on the playground.

I think this might have something to do with the fact that

my father, when he was alive, paid more attention to his dogs

than to me, and now whenever I see one with an owner

I get jealous and secretly think they should be walking and

petting me.

Add to this soft serve spiraling pile of disgust that they make

leashes for kids nowadays, and it shouldn’t be a canned

surprise that upon seeing a dog, or any pet, a part of me

gets ready to bark, and drag his backside across the carpet.

From the driveway nobody sets a foot inside, I lift my little

asshole, Tortellini-faced snout into the air and yell at the

world for not noticing that I’m here.

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.