------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
your dead father must be proud
flick a booger
across the room
somewhere in hell
your dead father
must be proud
i still catch a
glimpse of him
when i look in
the mirror or
i can hear him
when i start to
laugh at times
it takes everything
i have to not punch
glass or slit my throat
not every crisis
can be solved
with just a few
deep breaths
i have learned
over the years
a glass of something
strong and a woman
willing to put her heels
into the pit of your soul
can do the trick every
time
---------------------------------------------------------------------
a few years at least
trying not to stare
at this beautiful
black woman
with curves in
all the right
places
i have a little
time left before
i am truly a
dirty old man
----------------------------------------------------------------
an overpass down by the river
i am not looking
forward to dying
alone
but the odds aren't
in my favor of that
ever changing
i figure i might have
a few twists and turns
in the works,
but knowing my luck
that will include dirty
cardboard and living
under an overpass
down by the river
i'm probably a few
years away from
being a springsteen
song
---------------------------------------------------------------
where even the animals
you'd cry yourself
to sleep if you could
only find the tears
broken,
discarded
a blues song in a
gutter where even
the animals don't
dare to piss
she was this drop
dead beauty
soft, angelic skin
a laugh that immediately
made you feel safe
she'd kiss you like her
life depended on it
as usual in this too
busy fucking world
you lose touch
days become months
and one day you feel
the urge to check the
obituaries
caught dancing with
a train
holes in the carpet
tomorrow makes
no sense
---------------------------------------------------------------
agony says i love you
think of the pain
as a hug from an
old lover
she brushes her hand
across your jeans and
your heart begins to
flutter
of course,
the pain is never
like that
a large knife driven
into your soul, twisted
until agony says i love
you
they tell me i have
a high pain tolerance
not sure what good
that does me anymore
i would pray for death
but i have been disappointed
enough already
break out the watercolors
put on some john coltrane
pretend the talent is still there
how does one paint out
a depression
shallow lines on cardboard
exhaustion hopefully will win
J.J. Campbell (1976 - ?) is old enough to know better. He's been widely published over the years, most recently at Horror Sleaze Trash, Mad Swirl, The Beatnik Cowboy, Disturb the Universe Magazine and The Rye Whiskey Review. His most recent chapbook, with Casey Renee Kiser, Altered States of The Unflinching Souls, is now out in the world. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)
