in that little notebook

i love when people start

staring at the weird fucker

in the corner

scribbling down something

in that little notebook

i’ll look up and then they

see this long ass goatee

and suddenly remember

it’s best to not poke at

something that might

just bring

some hell along with him

————————————————————-

the extra minutes needed

one thing

about these

cold weather

months

the beautiful

women with

a couple layers

on excite my

imagination

even more

i would enjoy

the extra minutes

needed to peel

back the layers

if ever given

the chance

—————————————————————–

ending a cycle of madness

i remember when i was a child

i always thought i would marry

the most beautiful woman in

the world

but sometime around the time

my father told me he married

my mother because he needed

someone to knock the shit out

of his underwear

i realized children wouldn’t be

the most responsible thing to

bring into this world

it never dawned on me that

thought would become a deal

breaker with so many women

it’s hard to justify ending a cycle

of madness while arguing with

a thundering ball of hormones

good thing i learned how to

drink as a child and in the

process got over any fear

of loneliness

thankfully, my imagination

hasn’t become old demons

seeking revenge

————————————————————————-

passed on down the generations

there’s a long line

of hate that runs

through my blood

it’s a cancer passed

on down the generations

and as much as i want

to be better, to rise

above and all that

bullshit

it’s useless at best

i simply temper

expectations

understand that failure

does not equal death

and eventually, the

stupid do fucking die

————————————————————————–

the endless parade

the endless parade

of what could have

been

this town is full

of regret

that happens when

nostalgia is replaced

with a hardened heart

that is confused with

religion

and of course

these are the fucks

that breed children

like cats have kittens

and i always laugh

when i think about

the first time that

mother finds her

daughter kissing

a black boy

or listening to

something she finds

too sexy for her age

of course, religion

means there is no

room for evolution

yet alone humanity

or any willingness

to learn

J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is old enough to know better. He’s been widely published over the years, most recently at The Beatnik Cowboy, The Rye Whiskey Review, Yellow Mama, Terror House Magazine and Horror Sleaze Trash. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)