The cover is illustrated by the Swedish artist Janne Karlsson. Rather than an appropriation of Edvard Munch’s famous 1893 painting ‘The Scream’, it appears the painting is more in tune with the deeper atavistic dread as envisioned in Joseph Conrad’s iconic lines in his novella The Heart of Darkness, “The horror, the horror!”
In the chap, Wozniak explores death on several fronts: the death of a family pet on Boxing Day (‘A Gift We Couldn’t See Through the Tears’), helping to clear out the personal effects of a deceased poetry friend (‘A Grave Poem’ – for T-Poe’), &, for example, talking to a friend whose wife the night before, has driven her car “off a cliff/ in a drunk-blind-fury.”
Wozniak says of the opening poem, ‘A Grave Poem’, “ It’s a rather personal piece to me, being about a good friend/ mentor so I think I’m just partial to it for that reason, plus it was one of those rare poems that just fell out due to emotional overload that needed no editing. I personally, always love the poems that just come out purely from need/desire.”
For Wozniak, like many of us, death is only a step or two away. In his poem ‘Not Impatient’ he graphically captures this sense of dread, of inevitable doom:
Not Impatient
Death is always there
waiting for the bus stop wino
to miss his step
and trip off the curb,
for the nine-year old
to not look both ways,
for the lonely old man
to choke on a ham and cheese
while he feeds the pigeons
and thinks about his long-dead-wife
who used to give him shit
about not chewing his food.
Death is always waiting for us
around the bend,
on the other side of that corner
we’re taking at 120 mph
in the middle of the night
with one eye shut
and a gut full
of impossible escape.
Wozniak’s writing is clear and brutal. Asked about his obsession with death, he recently replied tersely, “It’s just been very much in the forefront of life, I think for most people, these last 2 years or so. I happened to have the poems laying around and it seemed appropriate to put them together.”
In his iconic poem ‘Speeding Up a Slow March’ the persona of the poem, views suicide as a reprieve from “everything”:
Speeding Up a Slow March
At times
living seemed
like a good idea
but everything
worthwhile
consumed itself
and, once again,
death became
the prayer
that rattled
off the tongue.
Your peace
was found
in the sound
of a gun shell
bouncing
off the ground
an instant
before absolute
made its mark.
(All poems posted in this review are with the permission of the poet)
Despite the continued darkness in Wozniak’s writing, in a few of his poems he finds solace in reading the poetry of small press writers such as the late Doug Draime (‘Deciding What to Do with The Day’) and John Yamrus (‘Sweat to Live’).
Asked about why he continues to write the stuff, Wozniak replies tersely, “To be honest, my output has slowed a lot but when the poems haunt my thoughts, there’s really no choice in the matter.”
What’s next for you? “No major plans. Just one foot in front of the other and see what comes my way.”
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