————————————————————————–
boring is good
all the madness has
been drained from
my desire
it is all simply day
after day
same old shit after all
the other boring shit
it was explained to
me as a child, this
was life
that boring is good
and i’m stuck here
wondering if i am
even alive
but the sun will
come up again
the birds will shit
on your driveway
the stray cat will
piss on your porch
flowers and weeds
good thing i wasn’t
using that hour
just a little crack
in the misery
happiness always
gave me the creeps
———————————————————-
a touch of genocide
and here come the clowns
angelic devils sent to torture
young children
imagine all your birthdays
had just a touch of genocide
that yellow brick road
has been covered in
blood
just an endless war
to feed the rich
trapped in suburbia
knowing all of this
is futile
she gave me a handful
of dead flowers and said
like everything else, they
were once beautiful
all we have is nostalgia
you know,
when eggs were priced
less than a body part
porch cigarettes
and a bottle of jack
must be spring
———————————————–
murder mystery
a valley of sadness
a b movie on a saturday
night in the sticks
murder mystery
with a tv dinner
they still sell
salisbury steak
at the local deli
a red x through
all the days
calendar after precious
little puppy calendar
you like cats better
because all assholes
stick together
another empty
for the floor
death is in the air
crushing pills so the
alcohol still shines
wake up two weeks
later in the hospital
forgotten your name
but don’t worry, they
always know who will
be paying the fucking
bill
—————————————————–
in this vapid wasteland
sometimes it isn’t
even the pain
being tossed to
the side of the
road
wasting time trying
to find love in this
vapid wasteland of
unmarked graves
and declining
statistics
dead skin
sleeping on the floor
waiting for death like
a whore on christmas
one last glass of scotch
and some blues on the
radio
the shotgun in the corner
may get some action tonight
more than i can say about
the rest of us
—————————————————————————
the beauty of a few drinks in
her neon eyes caught
my attention from
across the room
all those curves in
all the right places
yet another one
way out of my
league
but the beauty of a
few drinks in is there
is no limits in a drunken
mind
first rule,
always make her laugh
i’m not sure about the
second rule as i never
had much success with
rule one
i bought her a drink
asked her name
and told her she
was beautiful
she said you can do
better than that
i laughed and explained
to her about disappointment
and sometimes you should
just enjoy the compliment
and free booze
the younger ones never
got those lessons about
honesty
J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is trapped in suburbia, plotting his escape. He’s been widely published over the years, most recently at Horror Sleaze Trash, The Dope Fiend Daily, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, The Beatnik Cowboy and Disturb the Universe Magazine. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)