Backward into civilization by Justin karcher

While watching the sunset over the river, the wind hit my eyes just right, so they started to water and I told myself that beauty is a lighthouse calling your sadness back to shore. When I turned around, a blue moon hung over the skyway. I saw a cruise ship docked where it shouldn't be, like a mountain erupting from a bathtub drain. It’s not quite like digging up the dead but it still reveals uncomfortable truths: I’ve suppressed my yearning so much that it’s become an upside-down garden. When the roots begin to untangle, what I want falls sporadically like flowers in a storm. I've been too scared to catch them. A cop shone a flashlight at me and I had to walk away from the water. Back in civilization, it was prom night and there were teenagers everywhere taking photos. They shined in a way zombies do not. I ended up walking alongside a man in a wheelchair who only rides it backward. Maybe it was broken but I didn't ask. He seemed happy enough. Following him backward, I started to imagine rewriting everything.

Justin Karcher (Twitter: @justin_karcher, Bluesky: @justinkarcher.bsky.social; Instagram: justinkarcher) is a Best of the Net- and Pushcart-nominated poet and playwright from Buffalo. 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