WOLFGANG CARSTENS

Wolfgang Carstens is the author of numerous poetry collections, publisher at Epic Rites Press, and organizer and host of Poets Underground, a poetry show that celebrates and showcases the best and brightest authors currently working the marrow of contemporary poetry. He lives in Canada with his wife, five kids, grandson, dog, mortgage, and death.  His poetry is printed on the backs of unpaid bills.  More information at www.wolfgangcarstens.com.

Your poetry seeks meaning in the commonplace and everyday. It’s earthy, simple and profound. One stanza in “The Abyss Gazes Also” is:

“as my son runs back outside to play
this question of nothingness
surfaces like an ugly, unseen monster
and i think:
​if only it were that simple”

Do you see yourself as existentialist? What I’ve read of your poetry leans in that direction. If not, what, if any, would be the philosophy you live by?

The human situation amounts to searching for meaning in an essentially meaningless world. There is neither internal nor external value to human life. The only value my life has is the value I place upon it—and this value does not apply to other human lives. Value is a personal struggle—it (in my estimation) involves living to one’s highest potential—and therefore is in a constant state of jeopardy. If I value my life because I am a writer, for example, and a stroke prevents me from performing this activity, I must begin searching for new ways to value my life. To further the point, I add that although writing is an important activity in my life, the act itself is essentially meaningless. Why bother−to leave written words for others to find? Who cares? My words won’t save me, you, or anybody else. So really—what are we talking about here if not beautiful ways to escape the bullets, bombs, and boredom?

Humans are funny animals—yes, we are animals—part of the animal kingdom—subject to the same deterministic laws that govern all animals. We like to believe that we are better than animals—smarter—more advanced—with some divine purpose—but that’s only a fiction. There’s no God, Heaven, equality, or free will. Democracy is—and likely always will be—one of the worst forms of government.  Our most cherished beliefs are illusions. We are creatures who have built an entire system of beliefs upon a foundation of illusion. Even written language, which sets us apart from other animals, and the one thing that gives my life purpose, is utterly and completely pointless. Now look—how easily I argue myself out of existence.

we

are born.

we

suffer.

we

die.

life

is essentially

meaningless.

birthdays

and funerals

are

inconsequential.

what

is in between

should be

celebrated.

—from Enjoy Oblivion

After saying all of this, I should add that I love living. I am (to quote Kerouac) “mad to live.” I surround myself with others who are mad to live—who live each day ferociously. I have neither patience nor time for negative people. I loathe complainers. “I am in so much pain,” they say. “Yeah,” I answer, “when you’re dead you won’t feel anything.” “I am so old,” they say. “Yeah,” I answer, “at least you’re not under the ground.” Life is a gift—the search for meaning is a gift—it is yours to embrace or squander as you see fit. The only piece of advice I can offer is to live today because tomorrow never comes.

it’s not rocket science.

all you have to do

is make every day

count

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.

the end will arrive

soon enough.

—from Bulletproof

Did you choose poetry? Or did it choose you?

Poetry chose me. I started writing poetry when I was eight years old. When all the other kids were drawing cars and robots, I was trying to string two words together. I don’t know why it happened. Language and communication have always played an important role in my life. Writing poetry is an activity I have been trying to perfect for almost forty years.

A poetry magnet of mine was recently released through the infamous  e.s.h. Poetry Project. The poem warrants reprinting here:

how to write poetry

sink the pencil

into the marrow

of your bones;

extract

the good stuff;

leave

a bit of your life

on the page.

—from Factory Reject

Anybody who wants one of these magnets can contact me through www.wolfgangcarstens.com and I will send you one. The point and purpose of the poetry project is to bring poetry to new and strange places through free distribution.

What led you to publishing? And why do you think Epic Rites Press is so highly regarded and respected, even by mainstream poets and writers?

I had been reading poetry online by Rob Plath. I contacted Plath through social media and ordered every one of his books. When they arrived, I devoured them. His most recent book at the time was Tapping Ashes in the Dark (Lummox Press, 2008)—the poetry painted a picture of Plath as a dying man. Now, here was a writer who was clearly a genius, whom I believed was a dying man, and yet every one of his books were no longer than 25 pages. They were mere pamphlets. It didn’t sit right with me. One night, after a few too many shots of Tequila, I contacted Plath and said “Let’s put out a real book of your poetry—a monster book.” Plath responded immediately. Nine months later, the monster 300 page volume, A Bellyful of Anarchy, was released through Epic Rites Press. Since then, I have been fortunate enough to release books by some of the best writers currently working the marrow of contemporary poetry: John Yamrus, William Taylor Jr., Bill Gainer, Todd Cirillo, Matt Borczon, Brenton Booth, to name only a few.

If Epic Rites Press has achieved cult-like status in mainstream and underground publishing, it’s because readers have come to trust and expect something raw, pure, and primal from these books. That trust between reader and publisher is paramount. I have been publishing for 10 years—the only reason I have been fortunate enough to continue is because my readers trust my decisions. They open up their wallets and purchase new books by authors they’ve never read before because they know I am not going to disappoint them. A couple of stories here:

I have been approached three times by famous people who have wanted me to publish their books. All three instances came with hefty monetary compensation. One instance, in fact, came with a blank check where I was invited to fill in the amount. I never published any of the books because I didn’t believe in the material. It’s not even that the material was bad (although some of it was) but rather it didn’t fit the energy or direction of the press. The analogy I often use involves the poetry of William Blake. I love the poetry of William Blake—but I wouldn’t publish it because the work would alienate my core readership. It would put that relationship I have worked so hard to build in jeopardy. That’s not something I am willing to do.

Neither, of course, is selling out the readers who have trusted and supported me for a decade just to make some quick, easy cash. Ironically enough, I have a friend who made a deal like this once. After spending years building up his press, he sold out for a large sum of money and published a book by a semi-famous person. It was one of the worst books of poetry I have ever read. It had no business seeing the light of day. It completely destroyed the integrity of his press, alienated his readership, and it wasn’t long after that he shut it down completely. It all boils down to integrity. I am not willing to sell mine—at any cost.

What kind of literature grabs you?

The kind of literature that grabs me is the kind of literature released through Epic Rites Press: literature written in honest, everyday language. The kind of writing that never sacrifices the best word in favor of the best sounding word; that treats writing poetry (to borrow a line from John Yamrus) like “a bloodsport” and not a literary game; that is uncompromising; that fearlessly confronts and explores real emotions and isn’t afraid to speak directly and honestly—regardless of who may be offended; by raw, primal language devoid of bullshit or pretense. I have no patience for “literary games” or “literary posing” and the minute something strikes me as in-authentic, I will literally tear a book into shreds and dump it in the trashcan. You only get one chance with me. Don’t fuck it up.

  

poetry

is

a

bloodsport

practiced

to

keep

the

wolves

from

the

door

and

the

ghosts

from

the

mirror

—John Yamrus

from Alchemy

Epic Rites Press, 2014

If it sounds like I’m pushing Epic Rites Press hard here, it’s because I am. The authors I publish are, in my opinion, at the top of their game. They demand our attention.

  

What’s your literary vision of the future?

My most recent books Bulletproof (Grey Borders Books, 2017) and Raising the Dead (Svensk Apache Press, 2017) are available now through my publishers. I have three books coming out: Hell and High Water; From Dusk to Sandra Dawn; and Becoming the Dead. Keep your eye on my website for details and release dates. Epic Rites Press began 2017 with the release of Burning the Evidence by Todd Cirillo, Battle Lines by Matt Borczon, and As Real As Rain by John Yamrus and Janne Karlsson. All three books are available now on Amazon. In the next few months, Epic Rites Press will release Swallowtude, a novel by Rob Plath, which features an illustrated appendix by Pablo Vision—and, of course, the 2017 Punk Chapbook Series, which features manuscripts by Brenton Booth, Matt Borczon, Victor Clevenger, Ryan Quinn Flanagan, Bill Gainer, Karl Koweski, Ben John Smith, Sean Thomas Dougherty, Frank Reardon, Ben Newell, Ron Lucas and Wayne F. Burke. As always, these will ship as one package. Swallowtude and the 2017 Punk Chapbook Series are available for pre-order now at www.epicrites.org. Beyond that, I try not to think too far ahead—because, as mentioned previously, tomorrow is never guaranteed.

                                           WOLFGANG CARSTENS