10 Dec Two Poems by Justin Karcher
Dobby dying in Harry’s arms from a fatal knife attack
and after his last words I go back to slurping my soup
pumpkin ginger because ‘tis the season
but something doesn’t sit right with me
why is Café 59 playing Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1
when the Sabres are about to hit the ice for their season opener?
not everyone cares about sports, and I get that
I just prefer giving in to false hope rather than face my true feelings
but maybe tonight will be different
how after I’m done eating, I follow the sounds of a car crash
until I’m lost in a grove of dead trees and instead of leaves on the ground
there’s broken auto glass and a better version of me sweeping up the pieces
I stare for a while, angrier with every passing second and when the tears
in my eyes start welling up I drop to my knees and beg for the broom
pleading that I’m finally ready to clean up this mess but it’s a half-lie
as I put the broom between my legs and take to the sky flipping off
the other me, there’s magic in running away and I’ve gotten quite good at it
flying around aimlessly until I feel kinda guilty and text everyone in my contacts
what’s up and tonight it seems there’s a gathering in Niagara Square
how there’s this kiddie pool in front of City Hall and people filling it up
with Count Chocula then they’re gonna set it on fire, a ritual meant to banish
the monsters in our lives and maybe now’s the time I disappear
so I make a beeline for such a beautiful place, to be with friends
WHAT HAPPENS BEFORE THE WORDS HIT THE PAGE
Imagine old cats in a white room
sadness a tiny pyramid in the middle
its creation remains a mystery
the cats wanna get to the top but don’t have the energy
so they purr and sleep and dream at the bottom
of something they don’t understand
and every time they twitch, a new poem is born
we don’t live just one life but many
some advice: always occupy
the museum of you, all your flora and fauna
and the stories behind them
whenever there is any doubt
about where to climb, first find the fire
you don’t wear anymore and bury it
it feels like someone rubbing your back
and then a song escaping through your mouth
About the Poet
Justin Karcher is a Best of the Net- and Pushcart-nominated poet and playwright born and raised in Buffalo, NY. He is the author of several books, including Tailgating at the Gates of Hell (Ghost City Press, 2015). He is also the editor of Ghost City Review.
His recent playwriting credits include The Birth of Santa (American Repertory Theater of WNY) and The Trick Is to Spill Your Guts Faster Than the Snow Falls (Alleyway Theatre). He is the co-curator and co-host of the popular Poetry Night at Caffe Aroma Series.
Related Event
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- Karcher, along with several other Western New York poets, wrote sections for When Worlds Collide, an adaptation of A Christmas Carol, running through December 23rd at American Repertory Theater of WNY. Visit artofwny.org for ticket information.
The Poem of the Week feature is curated by literary legacy awardee R.D. Pohl.