Kisses From A Straight Razor is the latest collection of poetry by the New Orleans resident and co-founder and editor of Six Ft. Swells Press Todd Cirillo. The poems were written pre-covid and a few have originally appeared in alternative small press publications, such as The Rye Whiskey Review, Cajun Mutt Press, Heroin Love Songs, Lummox Journal and Asylum Floor.
The collection consists of 43 poems, mainly free verse narratives written in a simple, pared back confessional style. The poems are characteristically observational, conversational and brimming with a zest for life. At its core, Cirillo's poetry is feel-good, resilient- exuding a spark & humour which displays an understanding of relationships which are rich, exploratory and based on humane, progressive shared values.
The subject matter often focuses on the speaker's (presumably Cirillo's) ongoing quest for love- flirting with airline crew (‘Mile High Club’), being approached by a woman at a reading (‘Wanting’), swapping telephone numbers with waitresses in bars (‘Sucker’s Paradise’) or checking women out through a dating app (‘Modern Love’).
Despite his best efforts, Cirillo usually finds himself alone once more and expresses a nagging yearning for love. ‘Knowing’ and ‘A Romantic Gesture’ are interesting examples. ‘The Prisoner’ a short, second person poem addressed to an ex-lover, is perhaps a finer, more striking example:
The Prisoner
I can still smell you
on my pillowcase,
in the comforter
and sheets.
Thought about
doing laundry
but decided
to keep you
with me
just a little
longer.
(all poems in this review are posted with the permission of the poet)
In his search for love, Cirillo finds many detours, dead ends and mishaps. Despite many promising encounters with ex-girlfriends (‘Picture Perfect’) or new recruits (‘Moon Rocks and Magic’) the magic often doesn’t gel or last long between them. In other poems, Cirillo describes being shunned (‘Sucker’s Paradise’), stood up (‘What’s In a Name’, ‘In Complete Agreement’) or left to deal emotionally with the aftermath of a break up (‘The Weather Channel’, ‘Nothing Wasted’ and ‘Rock Bottom’).
In a recent interview with BM (which follows this review), Cirillo defines what ‘love’ means to him and admits he is an idiot for love: “Love is like having a butterfly land on you. It is really the most extraordinary of connections, not always overwhelming pleasant but always memorable. I like to think that all of my poems are love poems in some form or fashion. I am an idiot for love. I like to think that things are more possible when you are in love. It is something I wish for and something I’ve been fortunate to experience a few times. I hope the butterfly lands again.”
Cirillo provides the reader with few clues in his poems as to why things stuff up for him in the love department. He keeps his explanations to a minimum to prime the reader into reflecting on their own failures and crazy longings.
The blame for his failures are usually set squarely on his own shoulders. In ‘How Far We’ve Come’ he writes “I only fall in love/ with insane and unstable women.” Sisyphus-like he finds himself after nine years of therapy/ twelve books of poetry… alone/ writing/ the same love poem/ all over again.” In ‘Memories’ he curiously ponders over a beer during lunch while listening to Etta James’s voice from a jukebox: “Then I remembered/ that most days/ I forget I was ever/ married at all--”. In ‘Todd the Optimist’ while swimming in a pool he thinks about “all of the/ bad decisions/ I’ve yet to make.” In ‘Midnight Ghosts’ he writes about “The women who loved me/ unconditionally but I let go stupidly.”
Asked why things often end sadly for him, Cirillo candidly says, “I have been wondering that for years now. I tend to meet spectacularly creative and wild women who are often in situations not conducive to long-term connection/commitment. They are either not in a place for a relationship for various reasons; still entertaining a past hook up, still keeping options open, still married, timing is off, stars are not aligned, it’s Tuesday, waiting for someone other than yours truly, a misconception that I’m into all sorts of “alternate arrangements” etc. and sometimes I settle for those, that is how low I have become. I used to think it was some type of painful penance for some past transgressions or something but now, I just see it as sad, even as exciting and inspiring as it can be at times. The truth is, I look in the rearview too much. Ultimately, it is pathetic really. It has gotten to the point where I really just demean myself for connections I suppose. The only conclusion I have arrived at is that I am a play toy for the lords of karma. Though, the fucked-up truth of it is, I actually write more and better when I am in love and committed to an amazing partner. I am a living Willie Nelson song.”
One of the more memorable “love poems” is ‘The Coldest Day in New Orleans’, a highly evocative poem which foreshadows the breakdown of a relationship through the personified image of the frigidity of the city in which the couple walk “arm in arm”:
The Coldest Day in New Orleans
--January 18, 2018
The city is shut down
due to ice and frigid cold
but the bars are still open
and hot drinks are served
while the Mississippi flows
unbothered in the Gulf.
We walk arm in arm
to see the frozen sights
of this city.
It is your first time.
Six hours in, at the river,
I say that I love you.
Simple as that.
No matter how complicated
it makes your life
or mine.
It was waiting
to be said,
the words
sitting between us
just beneath my busted ribcage
and your cheating heart
to be cracked open
like a favorite book,
or bottle,
and brought into existence.
The two of us
shivering together
on the coldest day
in New Orleans,
holding the heat tight
between us,
frozen together
in that moment.
In some of his better poems, Cirillo sits alone in a bar or restaurant, and on observing couples, makes generalisations about his own inadequacies and frailties. In ‘The Domino Effect’ he goes to one of his favorite lunch haunts and overhears the conversation of young couples near him at the bar. It prompts him to think of his own situation of “eating alone again,/ no plans for Friday night,/best friends far away,/ face lines getting deeper,/ in love with a girl/ who doesn’t want to love me.” Similarly, in ‘Dinner Plans’ in walking by a table, he spots a dysfunctional couple he can identify with- because he has been there before, several times:
Another last meal together,
soon the packing will begin,
the lease broken.
Head filled with questions
that may never find answers.
I have had many of those meals myself
in a variety of restaurants
wishing to be any place else.
Cirillo says he is usually inspired by his own situations and relationships, “for good or ill” and he writes down honestly what he thinks “may have occurred.” He is clear that he doesn’t bullshit to appeal to his readers, “I do not play the ‘alone’ card for my readers. The sad and terrible truth is that I am alone. At this point, I cannot distinguish between what I’ve done right or wrong. Have I sacrificed for the muse or has the muse sacrificed me? It is a terrible tightrope for a writer like me. I do not work well alone. There is nothing noble, fun or poetic about waking up alone on Christmas morning or birthdays.”
In an earlier Bold Monkey interview for his collection Burning the Evidence (2017) (see link below) Cirillo was asked about his gaze on women. He says, in part:
“I do write about women often. I say that with pride. I create composites or become inspired by a single person who shines and offers me something extraordinary, whether they know it or not; strangers or significant others.
“Women can provide pure comfort or chaos, sometimes both and that’s wonderful for me. I tell people that everything I write is a love poem in some form or another and I believe that. I’m in this constant search for love and always hold the belief that it’s going to happen this time or….the next or…the next, no matter how bruised, broken or betrayed I get…I am a true sucker for punishment or possibility.”
To Cirillo, love is achingly ephemeral and elusive. As depicted in ‘Gravitational Force’ it is “an unseen force” which is irrational but natural “like the tides/ reaching for the moon.” In ‘The Tiniest Feeling of Them All’ it is an “imperceptible sway”… a “ripple,/ barely a bump…” a strand of hair/ attached to the person/ you are paying attention to.” In the opening stanza of ‘On the Way to Work’ he writes: “Today, I simply/ want to eat crawfish/ outside in the sunshine/ with a beautiful woman,/ a few beers/ and the Gulf Breeze.”
The title poem ‘Kisses From A Straight Razor’ incorporates many of the best elements you will discover in a Cirillo poem. It is simply written but intriguing from the start. The poem hints at the idea of a femme fatale but is really about living for the moment and not being left wondering in some sort of lingering regret.
Kisses From A Straight Razor
She offers me
kisses from a straight razor.
She says she wants
to leave her mark.
I don’t even have to look
into a mirror
to know
what all the open road sun damage,
scars, smile lines
and backstreet brawls
have done
to this face
it won’t be long
until the mind
goes next
so,
what the hell—
it would be nice
to have something
to remember her
by.
Cirillo says of the poem’s backstory and its choice of the book’s title:
“Often, I get a title before a poem or even a book. I view titles as no different than a line within the poem. A strong title can capture the reader. This phrase came to me after I did a Kamikaze shot but had no one to toast with. It sums up the pleasure and pain of interpersonal relationships for me. Plus, I think the image and the sound of the phrase are very visceral, twisted and playful. You can see the shine of the razor, the red of the lipstick and feel the cut and kiss.”
The stunning cover photo is by Carrie DeMay and the cover design is by Julie Valin, a staunch long-term supporter of After-Hours Poetry: http://sixftswellspress.com/
Cirillo elaborates further on the creation of the cover: “I believe that a cover is as important as the poems inside the book. It can and should grab a potential reader to open the book. This cover was created by two extraordinarily talented artists that I am forever indebted to; Carrie DeMay is a photographer, costume creator and true champion of fun. She and I went to various bars, had various drinks to come up with a scene to fit the title. In the end, we gave up, went to our favorite local bar with our favorite bartender, had more drinks and she randomly captured the photo in between shots of whiskey. That is how good she is. Please look her up at: carriedemay.com
“The other one of kind talent is Julie Valin. She put the graphics together, which she has for most of my books. Julie is a poet, graphic artist, top-shelf editor, bff, and my pirate poetry pal. Julie is insanely talented and inspiring. She can shape my inclinations into perfection. Please visit her website at selftoshelfpublishing.com.”
Some of the best poems in the collection tend to move beyond the anecdotal and possess a melancholic tone which reveal a darker undertow to Cirillo’s writing. Instead of the usual faucet of tepid introversion, in these poems, the menace and brutality of the real world intercedes. In ‘Beasts Beyond the Bedroom’ the speaker lies in bed at night listening to the romance of passing trains, “rolling on the river… through the southern fog.” He momentarily thinks of going out to watch the trains but contemplates the danger of gun-happy America: ”there are wanna-be killers/ out there/ in the dark,/ waiting for their shot/ to become/ something./ Something bigger and badder/ than their Instagram can capture.”
In ‘High School Reunion’, Cirillo returns to his teenage past and is deeply disillusioned by what he sees within himself and the world:
High School Reunion
At the beach bar
as far south as the road can go,
a song
from my high school years
comes on the jukebox—
“The Heart of the Matter”
by Don Henley.
It played on MTV,
at slow dances,
under bedroom black lights,
on poster plastered walls,
in the front seat of cars,
behind buildings,
at low lit dead ends.
To get this far away,
all these miles,
moments
and years
spent mostly
on barstools
around the world—
a very long, long way
from those dirt road days
living in a hated town
full of rotten apple orchards,
run-down bowling alleys,
an annual peach festival
that everyone talked about year-round,
cornfield drinking,
all those confused first fumblings at love…
only to end up back here again,
fucked up with my loneliness,
sitting on an old wooden barstool
with long gone names carved into it,
in the sunshine and sweet breeze—
just another one of the boys of summer
who tried to get away.
Cirillo candidly explains the context of his fucked up feelings, “That entire poem is a true story. I ended up alone sitting at the bottom of the country, the literal end of the road, down in the Florida Keys, once again on an old wooden barstool, drinking, placing myself in the path of inspiration and I got it, soon as that Don Henley song came over the jukebox. I don’t know why that did it but I don’t question these shiny moments. I was alone again after all these years and all the miles. I’m proud of all the twisted weirdness that I have found over the years but, like the idiot optimist I am, would like to have someone to toast with in those moments. That poem owes it all to Don fucking Henley. That makes me laugh to no end. I should send it to him.”
Yet Todd Cirillo’s intent is not political but personal– that we need to return to establishing connections between people as he expressed in an earlier interview:
“My thought/feeling is that poetry has to return to the beauty and necessity of an interpersonal connection between two people, transmitting a feeling or emotion and allowing the other person to take it with them and hopefully, if the poet is good, that individual did not begin as a poetry fan but they are now.”
That said, I recalled previous conversations with Todd and had to ask him about if he had any passing thoughts on Trump’s presidency and whether he was optimistic about America’s future. He was savage and sledgehammered in his retort:
“I hope trump and his family carry the shame of their traitorous and disrespectful ways for generations. They have zero respect for constitution or country and the United States is worse off for it. They should be shunned and humiliated where ever they go. I am not optimistic for America’s future, I am sad to say, but this country has gotten to the point where over 70 million other citizens allowed themselves to be duped by a third rate con artist. Convinced that a narcissist with a golden toilet, who despises people like them, understands and speaks for them. He is king of the idiots. Stupidity, blind allegiance, anger, authoritarianism and hatred are celebrated. Take the image from the January 6th insurrection, of these phony “patriots” beating a police officer with American flags while shouting USA USA, and there are those that justify that. That is where we are as a nation. A mass cult has been created and it will be hard to undo.”
Kisses From A Straight Razor is a highly accessible and enjoyable collection to read. Todd Cirillo continues his search for another woman, another beer, another sentence, another poem. He remains remarkably upbeat, accepting and his poems are incredibly fun to read.
Biography: Todd Cirillo loves good times and shiny moments. He lives in New Orleans so there are plenty of those to be found.
Buy the book here: https://www.amazon.com/Kisses-Straight-Razor-Todd-Cirillo/dp/1926860691
Check out Todd’s website here: https://www.toddcirillo.com
Read the full BM review of Todd Cirillo’s collection Burning the Evidence (Epic Rites Press, 2017): https://georgedanderson.blogspot.com/2017/05/book-review-interview-todd-cirillo.html
Interview With Todd Cirillo 25 January 2021
How would you describe the style of your writing. How has it evolved over the years?
My writing is After-Hours Poetry. A form of writing that values clarity and economy of language. Each poem should be like a cherry bomb in one’s hand. Try to create the clearest story for the reader. It is those last call low-lit moments when secrets are whispered and believed, whether they are true or not. I write for the audience/reader, whether they are truckers, soccer moms, bartenders, lovers, ex-lovers, poets, people I will never meet. It is about connecting with others, not writing something that I have to explain to them. If a poet has to explain their poem to an audience, then the poet has failed.
I don’t know if my writing has evolved so much as sharpened over time.
What is the backstory to the poem ‘Kisses From A Straight Razor’ and the choice of it for your title?
Often, I get a title before a poem or even a book. I view titles as no different than a line within the poem. A strong title can capture the reader. This phrase came to me after I did a Kamikaze shot but had no one to toast with. It sums up the pleasure and pain of interpersonal relationships for me. Plus, I think the image and the sound of the phrase are very visceral, twisted and playful. You can see the shine of the razor, the red of the lipstick and feel the cut and kiss.
The cover design is striking. Can you briefly discuss how it was put together?
Thank you for noticing the cover. I believe that a cover is as important as the poems inside the book. It can and should grab a potential reader to open the book. This cover was created by two extraordinarily talented artists that I am forever indebted to; Carrie DeMay is a photographer, costume creator and true champion of fun. She and I went to various bars, had various drinks to come up with a scene to fit the title. In the end, we gave up, went to our favorite local bar with our favorite bartender, had more drinks and she randomly captured the photo in between shots of whiskey. That is how good she is. Please look her up at: carriedemay.com
The other one of kind talent is Julie Valin. She put the graphics together, which she has for most of my books. Julie is a poet, graphic artist, top-shelf editor, bff, and my pirate poetry pal. Julie is insanely talented and inspiring. She can shape my inclinations into perfection. Please visit her website at selftoshelfpublishing.com
You reveal many aspects of love in the book. What is your view of “love”?
Love is like having a butterfly land on you. It is really the most extraordinary of connections, not always overwhelming pleasant but always memorable. I like to think that all of my poems are love poems in some form or fashion. I am an idiot for love. I like to think that things are more possible when you are in love. It is something I wish for and something I’ve been fortunate to experience a few times. I hope the butterfly lands again.
Why does it often end sadly for you?
Great question, I have been wondering that for years now. I tend to meet spectacularly creative and wild women who are often in situations not conducive to long-term connection/commitment. They are either not in a place for a relationship for various reasons; still entertaining a past hook up, still keeping options open, still married, timing is off, stars are not aligned, it’s Tuesday, waiting for someone other than yours truly, a misconception that I’m into all sorts of “alternate arrangements” etc. and sometimes I settle for those, that is how low I have become. I used to think it was some type of painful penance for some past transgressions or something but now, I just see it as sad, even as exciting and inspiring as it can be at times. The truth is, I look in the rearview too much. Ultimately, it is pathetic really. It has gotten to the point where I really just demean myself for connections I suppose. The only conclusion I have arrived at is that I am a play toy for the lords of karma. Though, the fucked-up truth of it is, I actually write more and better when I am in love and committed to an amazing partner. I am a living Willie Nelson song.
Do you have a “significant other” now or do you lie to play the “alone” card to appeal to your readers? (haha!)
Another great question. I do not play the “alone” card for my readers. The sad and terrible truth is that I am alone. At this point, I cannot distinguish between what I’ve done right or wrong. Have I sacrificed for the muse or has the muse sacrificed me? It is a terrible tightrope for a writer like me. I do not work well alone. There is nothing noble, fun or poetic about waking up alone on Christmas morning or birthdays.
Can you explain the context in which you expressed your “fucked up” feelings of loneliness in ‘High School Reunion’ ?
That entire poem is a true story. I ended up alone sitting at the bottom of the country, the literal end of the road, down in the Florida Keys, once again on an old wooden barstool, drinking, placing myself in the path of inspiration and I got it, soon as that Don Henley song came over the jukebox. I don’t know why that did it but I don’t question these shiny moments. I was alone again after all these years and all the miles. I’m proud of all the twisted weirdness that I have found over the years but, like the idiot optimist I am, would like to have someone to toast with in those moments. That poem owes it all to Don fucking Henley. That makes me laugh to no end. I should send it to him.
Yeah do!
You are a personal rather than a political poet, but I have to ask you this. Do you have any passing thoughts on Trump’s presidency and the discredited concept of American exceptionalism? Are you optimistic about America’s future?
I hope trump and his family carry the shame of their traitorous and disrespectful ways for generations. They have zero respect for constitution or country and the United States is worse off for it. They should be shunned and humiliated where ever they go. I am not optimistic for America’s future, I am sad to say, but this country has gotten to the point where over 70 million other citizens allowed themselves to be duped by a third rate con artist. Convinced that a narcissist with a golden toilet, who despises people like them, understands and speaks for them. He is king of the idiots. Stupidity, blind allegiance, anger, authoritarianism and hatred are celebrated. Take the image from the January 6th insurrection, of these phony “patriots” beating a police officer with American flags while shouting USA USA, and there are those that justify that. That is where we are as a nation. A mass cult has been created and it will be hard to undo.
What’s next for you?
Hope for the best; bars and inspiration at some point, hopefully performing live readings again, publishing more writers with my press, Six Ft. Swells, another book, another love perhaps. Just try to write again. This isolation has not been good for a writer like myself. I am a social writer. I gather material and inspiration from being around others.
Thanks Todd for filling me in on your latest collection.
Thanks George-- for all you do for poetry!
"The news is bad today, in America and for America. There is nothing good or hopeful about it--except for Nazis, warmongers, and rich greedheads" HST
