Russell Zintel: Animals that have never set foot in a smiling kitchen

Poetry by Russell Zintel
ANIMALS THAT HAVE NEVER SET FOOT IN A SMILING KITCHEN

Felt like a stray
In deer form.

Felt like a Eurasian red squirrel,
As a pet without ownership.

Ate like a lion, which is to say gloriously
But not often, while my friends grazed

In pairs; when tired,
Laying like lovers
On the bleached savannah.

I had the passion of a leopard slug,
The surreptitiousness of a giant, deep sea shrimp,
& the restraint of the smallest forest cat.

Spent a lot of time alone,
Snacking on little fishes,
Deferring to fickle tropical insects,
Giant katydids with calls that cause faraway ears to ring.

Felt like a deer in found form,
Drunk on neighborhood tomatoes.

Decided I could eat everything raw
With a bit of cheese,
& never need a recipe.

Wished to die as the heart’s child,
A smiling kitchen at the bottom of the sea,
Wanting you to be wanted

Like a cockroach,
Which is to say everlastingly.

Russell Zintel (he/him) lives in the Catskills with his beloved wife, KT, and their little family. Russell works as a chef, specializing in handmade pasta. His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Sand, Driftwood Press, San Antonio Review, Sledgehammer, and more.