Melancholy Hyperbole

Poetry about longing.

Tag Archive for ‘Justin Karcher’

Inhaling Kitty Litter Dust

I was apparently leading a bedbug marching band around the room Using an empty bottle of Maker’s Mark as my baton when I passed out.   Afterwards I dreamt I was climbing up a mountain of black rhino guts And the sunlight felt like the nerve-wracking breath of a recovering heroin addict.   When I woke up, I was alone in the Rip Van Winkle suite at the Hotel Lafayette […]

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All Balloons Must Pop, All Animals Must Die

Sam and I were trying to make it with these baristas and we were all Pretty drunk on gas station wine and the pheromones were lifting weights, And it smelled like air conditioner mildew. We wanted something cool   And refreshing, but there was this nasty smell laced with the air. We persevered though and before long, clothes were off And we were doing our best to compensate for a […]

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Tailgating at the Gates of Hell

After swapping spit and getting cozy with a strung out snowman, I’m in the bathroom and see a suicide note written in barbecue sauce on the mirror: “You’re killing me climate change with all this cold and snow. After the plows Got through, nothing left of me but a bag of bones and credit card bills.” Even when the truth stares me in the face, I’m still in denial. I […]

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