————————————————————–
buzzards
i always laugh
when i see
the buzzards
circling over
the nursing
home
i’m not sure
if that is the
kind of roadkill
they are looking
for
———————————————————————–
add a little blood
trimming my toenails
last night and the little
toe on my right foot
decided it was time
for a surprise
sure, four in the
morning why not
add a little blood
to the show
as i pulled the
fucking nail off
i grabbed a tissue
for the blood
i found some
neosporin and
did my best to
put that on it
before i finally
got some sleep
hell, what is
a little more
pain
thankfully, the bar
is fully stocked
———————————————————–
to kill the pain
and here come the sad songs
a tainted beauty and all the
alcohol to kill the pain
loneliness stumbles down
a broken road
stops to look in a window
sees nothing but flashbacks
of what could have been
her rosy red lips pressed
against what little of your
soul has left to claim
she always believed
even when you stopped
caring about the future
still waiting for you to
come to your senses
and give in
pride has killed many
a man and here you are
becoming another statistic
one last kiss
one last roll in the
proverbial hay
old souls determined
to peel back the years
—————————————————————
still allergy season
one of these passionless
days
sunny, warm breeze
still allergy season
wondering if the fridge
is still making that sound
running out of clean glasses
but rather do paper than
run the dishwasher
the rich friends are bitching
about their fortunes
i’m wondering if the lakers
are going to cover the spread
watching a squirrel checking
out a power line
i’ve seen this tragedy before
——————————————————————————
playing for drinks
one of those nights in a pool hall
watching my girlfriend flirt with
every motherfucker in the place
wondering if i should get angry
or tell her which one to bring
back to the farm to rob, fuck
and kill
the longer she flirted with
someone the more shots
i would make
she came over and whispered
in my ear, i see you play better
when you’re angry
i told her to remember this
when i’m playing for money,
i don’t need the anger when
playing for drinks
she went home with me
on that night
i showed her where her
g spot was
she broke up with me
two weeks later
J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is old enough to know better. He’s been widely published over the years, most recently at Mad Swirl, The Beatnik Cowboy, Yellow Mama, Horror Sleaze Trash and The Dope Fiend Daily. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)