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Wolfgang Carstens

Selected Poetry...

Crudely Mistaken For Life

i was daydreaming

when i stumbled
upon the
large Australian
cockroach
in our
driveway

i scooped 
it up
in an empty
paper cup
and brought it
inside
the house

my wife
started screaming
bloody murder
before i
had even
shown it
to her

she must have
sensed
its presence

but that’s how
it goes...

one night
you’re sitting
alone
on the couch
watching TV
when suddenly
bugs arrive
to eat you
​up

The Abyss Gazes Also

a question of nothingness

“where was i before i was born?”
my son asks.
“you were a part of me,”
i answer.

“where will i go when i die?”

“you will again become a part of me.
we've always been together--
we'll always be together.”

“will you bring me back to life
when i die?” my son asks.
“yes,” i answer,
“i’ll always bring you back to life.”

“and if you die,” he says,
“i’ll bring you back to life.”
“then you will be my daddy,” i say.

“yes,” he says,
happy in this thought.

“wonderful,” i say,
thankful that the serious questions
have passed.

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.

Factory Reject

when the human skull

was passed
around the lecture hall,
the speaker
encouraged us
to listen
and let it whisper
its secrets--

then to say the first thing
that came to mind
to the person sitting next to us.

when it was my turn to pass the skull,
although i’d intended
to lighten the mood
by saying something funny,

as i placed it in her hands,
all i could think to say was
“you’re next,
motherfucker.​”

Enjoy Oblivion

when Raven

learned how to speak,
one of her first questions
was “Daddy, what would you
do without me?”

at the hospital,
as the anesthesia took effect,
she let out a long wheezing groan
before her tiny body
went limp in my arms.

i walked outside,
lit a cigarette
and stood by the busy street.

“i would throw myself
into oncoming traffic
without you, my dear,”
i mumbled,

“and
if you
don’t wake up,

i
will
meet
you

​there.​”

Rented Mule

some men

spend their entire lives
creating great works
of art,

contemplating
the fundamental questions
of existence,

and leading great nations
to victory.

monuments are erected
in their honor.

me,
i’ve squandered my life
doing unimportant things
for unimportant people

that will never be remembered,

so,
when my time comes,
bury me
with my name tag

and plant my tombstone

on the hill
overlooking
the MegaMart.

Savage Love

we were at

the Bonnyville County Fair
watching a crappy magician
juggle chainsaws.

he asked for a volunteer
from the audience,

then pulled the redneck
sitting next to us
up on stage.

you
could literally
feel the women in the audience
gasp
at the massive bulge
in his jeans.

my wife
leaned in close
and whispered,

“do you think
his jeans
could get
any tighter?”

i couldn’t blame her
for noticing,
of course,

but
the experience
only confirmed
what i already
knew:

i
fucking
hate
​magic.

Bulletproof

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.

Hell and High Water

“i don’t write love poems”

i said,

“and i’ve never been
much of an Anglerfish.”

“what does that even mean?”
my wife asked.

“well,”
i said,

“when Anglerfish mate,
they melt into each other.

the female absorbs her man,
until his eyes, mouth,
and fins disappear--

and they share
the same bloodstream.”

“i like that,”
my wife says.

“well then,”
i say,

“come here Mama,

and let me
hold you

​tighter.”

Well, there's my pitch. If you like anything here, please consider purchasing one of my books. 

​Thank you for your support!
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