In his latest chapbook Bulletproof, the Canadian poet Wolfgang Carstens, revisits the tragic-comical
tomb of his favourite topic- death. The collection consists of twenty-one poems
which are characteristically short, first person confessional in form, written from
Carstens’ rapidly aging, 45 year-old point of view. His tone is often terse and
self-ironic as he kicks the shit out of Western taboos about death.
In many of the opening poems, Carstens recalls
the deaths of celebrities, acquaintances, friends- and then edging closer- that
of his dog, his father, his grandmother and then a lover; until the circle closes
even more tightly and he points the bone at himself. In the dozen or so poems which
follow, he sticks his head into the ass of death to explore and extend his personal
take on its many perspectives and ambiguities.
In the title poem poem “I used to believe”,
Carstens intuitively senses the inevitability of his own, quickly approaching
death. On his forty-fifth birthday he oddly feels vulnerable and realises that
he is no longer “bullet-proof”, that as he ages he is becoming more susceptible
to many diseases and ailments, and even a common cold, can now leave him bedridden
for many days. Carstens concludes the poem in a derisive, self-mocking, but celebratory
way:
the day is coming
when i will get sick
and not get any better
happy birthday motherfucker!
your days
are
numbered.
The poem “i turn 45” extends Carstens’ quirky,
existential view of life and death. He lists a litany of diseases he has recently been diagnosed
with, including cancer and concludes ironically, as if he is a television
presenter with a breaking bulletin about his own health:
i hobble around
like an old woman
with my cane.
still,
i never thought I would make it
this far.
in other news,
i am only 20 years
from retirement
and then
i can start
enjoying
my life.
The poem “in the past five years” further
illuminates Carstens’ fuck you attitude towards death, which perhaps helps him rise
above the gloom of his ultimate doom. It concludes:
my doctors
have already given me
an expiration date.
but tonight,
with a bottle of Patron,
a full pack of cigarettes,
and a song in my heart,
i swear to fucking Christ
i ain’t never gonna die.
Note that as represented in his best known collection Crudely Mistaken For Life (2010), Carstens
does not dwell morbidly on death but rather sees death more broadly as a
natural stage of life. He believes, as in the poem “it’s not rocket science”,
that we must make each day, each experience count. To live life to the max,
authentically and without regret:
so when Death comes
to take you,
you have no unfinished business,
your loved ones know exactly
how you feel,
and your bucket list
is empty.
no regrets.
This idea of celebrating life in the grim face
of death is also illustrated in the concluding poem of the collection, “i want my funeral.” In
the poem Carstens states that when he dies he does not want his friends and
family (and readers) to dress in black and to mourn his loss, but to attend his
wake and to party on. He exuberantly writes:
i want music,
dancing,
booze,
balloons,
and drugs.
put a bottle opener
on my casket;
pack it with ice
and turn it
into a beer cooler;
peel back my flesh
and turn my skull
into a hash bong.
just party motherfuckers!
celebrate the fact
that i'm dead
and you're not.
i want music,
dancing,
booze,
balloons,
and drugs.
put a bottle opener
on my casket;
pack it with ice
and turn it
into a beer cooler;
peel back my flesh
and turn my skull
into a hash bong.
just party motherfuckers!
celebrate the fact
that i'm dead
and you're not.
The cover illustration is by Carstens’
long-time collaborator, the Swedish artist, Janne Karlsson. Carstens is
depicted as a hipster gunslinger ready to release another boom mother-fucker poem,
as the flames rage wildly behind him.
Wolfgang Carstens digs death. He is fascinated
how death thrusts a stake through our identity, our consciousness: how it ends all
our hopes and dreams for the future. But in Carstens’ fiendish, creative hands, death can also be seen in terms of a celebration, a renewal, a beer in the hand amongst equals.
“In a drunken stupor” as Carstens claws across the
floor on his hands and knees, he thinks about “something worthy” they can
engrave on his tombstone. What he comes up with is a masterstroke:
surely
one more
won’t kill
me.
BULLETPROOF will be released through Grey Borders Press. The book is only $5 CDN
plus shipping. It ships in mid- January and can be pre-ordered here: http://greybordersbooks.jigsy.com/wolfgang-carstens
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