Book Review/ Interview: Wolfgang Carstens Prince Charming (Six Ft. Swells Press, 2020) 68 pages

 

This the latest poetry collection by Edmonton poet and publisher Wolfgang Carstens. There are 41 poems in this slim volume, some of which were previously self published in limited chapbook editions which are not available for purchase, including Perpetual Pallbearer (2018) and Welcome To Canada Bitch! (2019). 

 

Carsten’s Prince Charming is the second book he has published through Todd Cirillo’s Six Ft, Swells Press and follows the highly readable Hell and High Water (2017): https://www.amazon.com/Hell-High-Water-Wolfgang-Carstens/dp/0985307560#ace-g2545694624

 

In the interview with Carstens which follows this short review, he says of Cirillo’s role as editor, “Todd Cirillo is a true editor in the purest sense of the word. He’d send me suggestions about certain poems, arrangement of poems, and I would work through his suggestions to see if they worked for me. One particular poem ‘it was,’ from Hell and High Water, for example, is a testament of Cirillo’s genius. The poem was originally written from a male perspective. Cirillo suggested flipping it around and writing it from the female perspective. When I did, Cirillo was right—it becomes a much more powerful poem.”

 

The title of the collection derives from the domestic poem ‘i’m starting’:

 

“i’m starting

 

to look my age,”

my wife says,

as she’s putting on

her makeup.

 

“no you’re not,”

i say,

kissing her on the cheek.

 

“yes,”

she says,

“i look 40.”

 

“well,”

i say, 

 

“i guess i need

to trade you in

for a younger model.”

 

“Honey,

i love you,”

she says,

 

“but there’s

no other woman

on the face of the planet

that would put up

with your shit.”

 

“that’s not true,”

i say,

laughing,

“i’m charming.”

 

“Prince of Darkness,

maybe,”

she says,

 

“but Prince Charming,

you’re not.”

 

“that’s pretty good,”

i say,

 

“i’m gonna put that

in a poem.”

 

“and that’s another thing,”

she says,

 

“without me,

who’s gonna write

your books

 

for you?”

 

(all poems in this review have been posted with the permission of the poet)

 

The light-hearted but direct banter between husband and wife and her role as his muse is characteristic of Carstens’ poetry through Six Ft, Swells Press. Pressed about how the title was chosen and how he was persuaded to wear fancy dress for the book’s cover, Wolf says: “The more I thought about a title for the collection, the more “Prince Charming” jumped out at me. The idea to put me in drag was Cirillo’s idea. He staged the cover photo and I merely followed his instruction. 

 

“I actually did two photo shoots. The shoot from which the cover photo was taken and another shoot in full drag with make-up and wig. In the full drag shoot, I forgot to wear my tiara. It was the only thing Cirillo told me not to forget.”

 

Carstens’ wife Tracy Lee, for whom the book is dedicated, appears in many poems- the most memorable include ‘today’, ‘after too many beers’, ‘when my wife’ and ‘driving my wife.’ She is represented in several ways- as muse, as bitch, as soul mate and sometimes in a mocking manner. Asked what his wife thinks about appearing in his poems Carstens candidly says, “ My wife is truly one of the funniest people I know and many of my “relationship poems” are autobiographical. The title poem, for example, was based upon a real conversation—as many of these types of poems are. If you ask my wife, she’ll jokingly tell you she writes my books.” 

 

Carstens writes about relationships in an open and non-bullshit way. He often uses dialogue to add authenticity and variety to the work. ‘on our first date’, ‘the first time’, ‘hope’, ‘I’m trapped’ and ‘I need’ are some excellent examples of his craft.

 

As in Carstens’ arguably best collection of poetry ‘crudely mistaken for life’ (Epic Rites Press, 2010), he continues to dissect the concept of death. The best poems in Prince Charming include his classics ‘i want my funeral’, ‘i used to believe’, ‘in a drunken stupor’ from Bulletproof and the more subtle, poignant poems ‘I sit alone’, ‘how old’ and ‘Beverly’. The latter three are short, pithy poems which use simple anecdotes to provide sharp insights into the interplay between the sadness death brings and life’s regenerative spirit. 

 

Carstens says regarding his approach to writing and his representation of death, “I don’t sit down to write poetry. I write only what inspires me. It’s not a fascination with death but rather death inspires me to write about living. If you look at my death poems, you will generally find a message about living each moment fully and completely.”

 

The poem ‘Beverly’ about his late aunt, captures this idea beautifully:

 

Beverly,

 

i saw

a little girl

who looked just

like you.

 

she

had your

smile.

 

it

had me thinking

 

Death

doesn’t always

 

win.

 

Further to this notion in Carstens’ writing, is his adherence to what he calls “the philosophy of Warren Zevon”, the late great American musician, which he richly shares with his editor and publisher Todd Cirillo. The concept is brilliantly highlighted in one of the last poems in the collection ‘i wear shorts’: 

i wear shorts

 

every day.

 

all year,

 

whether

it’s plus 30

or minus 40.

 

lots of people

in Alberta

rarely go outside

in winter.

 

for me,

it’s like Zevon’s sandwich,

everyday

above the blades of grass

is a good day.

 

they say

i’m crazy.

 

i

say they don’t

understand

 

the Warren Zevon

philosophy.

 

most only ask

“who is Warren Zevon?”

 

i tell them

it’s getting cold out here,

probably time for them

to head back indoors.

 

Asked whether he actually wears shorts everyday and about what he means by the Warren Zevon philosophy, Carstens replies enthusiastically and at length: 

 

“The Warren Zevon philosophy is perfectly expressed by Zevon’s response to David Letterman’s question about whether or not his impending death provided him any insights about life. Zevon’s response was only that it showed him “to place more value on every minute” and to “enjoy every sandwich.”—which is, of course, another way to express my own “Live today—tomorrow never comes” mantra. It may sound cliche but it’s a powerful way to live—to embrace not only the good times, but the bad times as well. I can think of no better expression of a live well lived than Nietzsche’s “Amor Fati”—which is to be able to look back on your life and to wish nothing different forwards or backwards—to not only embrace every joy, every sadness, every triumph and every failure—to be happy, not in spite of it all, but because of it all—to realize that without these experiences, you would be somebody completely different. It’s a tall order, of course. Warren Zevon wasn’t morose when Death came knocking. He didn’t try to run or hide or beg for mercy—in fact, he opened the door, invited Death inside and served him breakfast. Few have died with as much dignity, grace or humour as Zevon—and he fully embraced Nietzsche’s Amor Fati. He stared into the face of the eternal recurrence and said “Yes” to everything. That is the Warren Zevon philosophy—encapsulated by that enigmatic phrase “enjoy every sandwich.” Yes, I wear shorts every day—in Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter—and in the context of my poem, the Warren Zevon philosophy is represented as wearing shorts in the freezing cold—not to bundle up against winter, but to embrace it.”

 

Despite the bleakness of some of Carstens’ subject matter- the coming on of “winter”, the imminent collapse of relationships, blackouts, sickness and death- there is also a great humour and exuberance in his work. The poetry is typically pared back, highly accessible, and as always, worthy of multiple readings.

 

I reckon the poem which best reflects the spirit of Amor Fati in this collection is ‘I want my funeral’ in which Carstens triumphantly imagines a drug & beer fuelled wake in his absence:

 

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. 

 

 

Buy the book here: https://www.amazon.com.au/Prince-Charming-Wolfgang-Carstens/dp/0985307579

 

 

 INTERVIEW WITH WOLFGANG CARSTENS 9 MARCH 2021

 

 

Edmonton is a damn cold place in winter. What keeps you there?

 

It doesn’t matter where you live, my friend, as long as you’re with the right people. As Nietzsche put it, “as long as you have a powerful why, you can put up with almost any how.”

 

Prince Charming is your second book published through Six Ft. Swells Press following Hell and High Water (2017). Can you describe the process editor Todd Cirillo undertook to put together and publish the collection? 

 

Todd Cirillo is a true editor in the purest sense of the word. He’d send me suggestions about certain poems, arrangement of poems, and I would work through his suggestions to see if they worked for me. One particular poem “it was,” from Hell and High Water, for example, is a testament of Cirillo’s genius. The poem was originally written from a male perspective. Cirillo suggested flipping it around and writing it from the female perspective. When I did, Cirillo was right—it becomes a much more powerful poem.

 

it was

 

a nice gesture,

of course,

 

getting

the heart tattoo

 

with his name

inked across it,

 

but,

in his heart

of hearts,

 

he knew

she had it

backwards.

 

it was he

that would always

belong 

 

to 

her.

 

The front cover photograph is by Tracy Landers and the graphic design by Julie Valin. The Prince Charming reference can be found in the poem ‘I’m starting’. Can you provide some background information on how the title was chosen and how you got to wear fancy dress? 

 

The more I thought about a title for the collection, the more “Prince Charming” jumped out at me. The idea to put me in drag was Cirillo’s idea. He staged the cover photo and I merely followed his instruction. 

 

I actually did two photo shoots. The shoot from which the cover photo was taken and another shoot in full drag with make-up and wig. In the full drag shoot, I forgot to wear my tiara. It was the only thing Cirillo told me not to forget. 

 

Do you really wear shorts everyday as you say in ‘I wear shorts’? What do you mean by the Warren Zevon philosophy? 

 

The Warren Zevon philosophy is perfectly expressed by Zevon’s response to David Letterman’s question about whether or not his impending death provided him any insights about life. Zevon’s response was only that it showed him “to place more value on every minute” and to “enjoy every sandwich.”—which is, of course, another way to express my own “Live today—tomorrow never comes” mantra. It may sound cliche but it’s a powerful way to live—to embrace not only the good times, but the bad times as well. I can think of no better expression of a live well lived than Nietzsche’s “Amor Fati”—which is to be able to look back on your life and to wish nothing different forwards or backwards—to not only embrace every joy, every sadness, every triumph and every failure—to be happy, not in spite of it all, but because of it all—to realize that without these experiences, you would be somebody completely different. It’s a tall order, of course. Warren Zevon wasn’t morose when Death came knocking. He didn’t try to run or hide or beg for mercy—in fact, he opened the door, invited Death inside and served him breakfast. Few have died with as much dignity, grace or humour as Zevon—and he fully embraced Nietzsche’s Amor Fati. He stared into the face of the eternal recurrence and said “Yes” to everything. That is the Warren Zevon philosophy—encapsulated by that enigmatic phrase “enjoy every sandwich.” Yes, I wear shorts every day—in Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter—and in the context of my poem, the Warren Zevon philosophy is represented as wearing shorts in the freezing cold—not to bundle up against winter, but to embrace it. 

 

Your wife Tracey Lee appears in many of your recent poems. What does she think about her role as muse, “bitch” and soul mate in your work? 

 

My wife is truly one of the funniest people I know and many of my “relationship poems” are autobiographical. The title poem, for example, was based upon a real conversation—as many of these types of poems are. If you ask my wife, she’ll jokingly tell you she writes my books. 

 

I saw online some footage of your readings in Kansas City and New Orleans. What did you enjoy and take away from the experiences?

 

It gave me a great excuse to hang out with good friends Todd Cirillo, Rob Plath and William Taylor Jr. Most poetry events are disastrous—poorly thought out events with bad poetry, bad writers and horrendous readings. Here, I came prepared—backed with three of the most powerful writers and readers on the planet. 

 

The great take away was know your audience and choose your material accordingly. My poem, “i woke up completely drunk,” from Prince Charming, for example, is a great example of how quickly readings can go sideways:

 

i woke up completely drunk.

 

i should’ve been at work

two hours ago

but have yet to leave

the house.

 

at any rate,

i began my day

by revisiting my reading

in Lawrence, Kansas.

 

i never realized

that i completely interrupted

the event organizer and host.

 

she’s

literally in the middle

of introducing me

when i start my set.

 

yeah,

that’s how

you pull the crowd on your side.

 

first, cut off the event organizer and host,

then read poems about fat women,

women who can’t cook,

women who stalk you,

women whose genitals resemble mongooses,

women who don’t give blowjobs,

about moving to Salt Lake City

with you sister wives,

 

then for good measure,

throw in a bunch of dick jokes—

 

all the while

being so drunk

you can barely speak. 

 

well played Wolfgang,

you are a consummate

professional.

 

Many of the poems in the collection explore death. Why the continued fascination?

 

I don’t sit down to write poetry. I write only what inspires me. It’s not a fascination with death but rather death inspires me to write about living. If you look at my death poems, you will generally find a message about living each moment fully and completely. 

 

The poem ‘i sit alone’ was written during a Fall camping trip—where the winds were picking up and orange and yellow leaves were dropping around me. The scene struck me as a perfect metaphor for death. The dying fire being my passion for living and my life force. The message here is to get busy because you don’t have as much time as you think. 

 

The output of books you have published through Epic Rites Press appear to have slowed recently. What’s happening in the future with your press?

 

The future of ERP involves the publication of a monthly printed magazine that features short, underground, family friendly poems that exemplify what great writing means to me. The magazine, ESCAPE IS AT HAND, printed in a run of 2000 copies, will be distributed freely to bars, cafes, fast food joints, restaurants and anywhere else that people congregate and wait. The mission is to deliver great underground writing into the mainstream population and introduce great poetry to people who normally wouldn’t read poetry. Each issue will be read by roughly 100,000 people. The first issue features work by Todd Cirillo, Rob Plath, William Taylor Jr. and Bill Gainer. It was supposed to launch in early 2020 but was delayed because of the pandemic. 

 

The mission of ERP has always been to expose mainstream readers to great, underground writers. This mission is better achieved by a monthly magazine. 

 

What’s your next writing adventure?

 

I’ve recently completed a book of original philosophy currently under review by a few publishers. I’m presently hammering out a second book of original philosophy. Also, I have articles under review for publication in a few philosophy magazines. 

 

Thank you, George.

 

All the best Wolf with your upcoming projects!

Book Review/ Interview: Todd Cirillo KISSES FROM A STRAIGHT RAZOR (Epic Rites Press, 2020) 82 pages

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 6^th 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 6^th 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