————————————————————————————

bitter cold

and here comes the cold

the kind of weather that kills

the homeless on the streets

the kind of bitter cold

that makes the hair on the

back of your neck stand

up at attention

and here i am

a winter coat and shorts

on

walking down to the

mailbox wondering

which bill is going

unopened today

enough damage has

happened to my legs

over the years that i

really don’t feel

anything on them

anymore

of course

it helps to be

slightly crazy

as well

———————————————————————–

a train out of baltimore

she kissed me and asked

what happened to your

soul

i told her it was stolen

from me on a train out

of baltimore

she chuckled and started

to run her fingers through

my chest hair

all gray now

you sure you aren’t ten

years older than you say

you are

i laugh and start to play

with a gray hair on her

head

she laughed

and we started to kiss

i’m sure she was thinking

of someone younger

and i was thinking about

that train out of baltimore

some crazy woman that

swore she had the blood

of edgar allan poe

a few drinks later

a disheveled poet

finally gets to

go home

———————————————————————–

david lynch

she cried in my arms

when she got the news

that david lynch was

dead

we met watching

blue velvet years

ago

we both knew

this day would

be devastating

i held her tighter

with each sob all

the while wondering

what flavor of gum

was she chewing

and if one thing

leads to another

is she going to

take the gum out

put it in my mouth

or keep chewing it

as she travels down

my body

i started to laugh

she looked at me

funny

i told her just a

little daydream

of my body hair

and a tragic piece

of gum

she smiled, pushed

me away

as if…

————————————————————————

trapped in our machines

and here we are choking

on common sense

blaming instead of doing

anything about anything

lost souls trapped in

our machines

better realities where you

never have to face any

consequences

we never age gracefully

anymore

kicking and screaming

29 until i die

yet another avoidable

tragedy

there is no laughter

anymore

no smiles, no sunshine

everything is going to

kill us

someday

and you know that fucker

in the corner is making

money off of your misery

is it his fault or the system

that created the chance to

begin with

no one likes change

unless it benefits the

one they care about

———————————————————————————-

always a good time

the muse called the other

night drunk, always a

good time

to more or less tell

me goodbye

detailing her escape

and all i could think

about was how the

marriage and kids

she wants

i am ready to give

but that doesn’t

fit her timeline

now

just my luck

two russian bots are

in love with me

i know they can’t be real

how many fucking single

women had their parents

die in a plane crash and

now live with a cousin

and just happened to fall

in love with a poet in ohio

i know my lack of luck

better than anyone alive

i think of it as a gene

from my father

yet another fucking gift

but all things come

to an end

love, friendship, dynasties,

peace and eventually

understanding

J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is stuck in suburbia, plotting his escape. He has been recently published at The Beatnik Cowboy, The Dope Fiend Daily, Disturb the Universe Magazine, Horror Sleaze Trash and Yellow Mama. His next book will hopefully be out sometime in 2025. In the meantime, you can find him daily on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)