by Justin Karcher
On top of the world there’s a kid
wearing a God, Guns and Trump Hat
feeding a crow some Mike and Ikes.
His parents seem proud as they take
a picture. When I get to the bottom
a pothead in Moab tells me the desert
does strange things to people. I tell her
the Great Lakes do strange things
to people too. Then there’s this silence
we’re supposed to fill with empathy
so, I tell her about this dream I had.
I couldn’t stop staring at my family
dancing on the beach. My dead friend
took my hand and told me to watch
the sunrise instead. I was confused
because I thought it had already risen.
****
Justin Karcher (Twitter: @justin_karcher, Bluesky: @justinkarcher.bsky.social) is a Best of the Net- and Pushcart-nominated poet and playwright from Buffalo, NY. He is the author of several books, including Tailgating at the Gates of Hell (Ghost City Press, 2015). Recent playwriting credits include The Birth of Santa (American Repertory Theater of WNY) and “The Buffalo Bills Need Our Help” (Alleyway Theatre). https://www.justinkarcherauthor.com