most of my adult life

just love sitting around

listening to people bitch

about how much sleep

they are not getting

it makes me laugh

for most of my adult

life i haven’t got more

than four hours a night

people are usually

shocked and warn me

about how unhealthy

that totally is

usually, i’ll shoot

them a look and then

they will understand

i have no interest

in living a long life

just want to get the

shit done i can while

i’m living

i won’t give two shits

about any of this after

i die

—————————————————————————–

where nothing good ever happens

and here come

the ghosts of all

the nightmares

to come

a leonard cohen

paradise overtaken

by david lynch

she laughs as i

nervously pace

the floor

i ask her

what’s

so funny

she says your zipper

is down dumbass

i look and realize

the zipper is now

broken but it has

become a black hole

where nothing good

ever happens

yet another one

of those sad truths

i pour myself a drink

and start the process

of ending this once

and for all

————————————————————————–

starts to taste like sorrow

anytime my birthday rolls

around i start thinking

about death

i know i don’t have that

many more to live through

the parties don’t happen

anymore

the alcohol starts to taste

like sorrow

i can’t help but think

of the number of people

that don’t remember

but it would be a crime

if i would forget theirs

this is where i should

have embraced being

a sociopath earlier in

life and just burn all

the fucking bridges

to the ground

instead

its a restless night alone

patiently waiting for death

or a partner to do it for me

imagine those poems

—————————————————————————————

she said i love you two days ago

thanks for wasting my time

that was the line some russian

bot typed to me after i refused

to give her money to take care

of her sick grandmother

it made me wonder, i’m sure

these bots have a certain quota

they have to meet each day

and given the number of times

i say no to going out to get a

gift card or send money

they must get pretty frustrated

given all the nude pictures

they send

i want to think of it like

a sweatshop

but the workers are killed

when they don’t meet that

quota

now there’s a thought that

will have me sleeping

comfortable at night

———————————————————————–

some majestic soul

turn on the

old tunes

a cool woman

by your side

old enough now

to understand

the games of

love

and all the

silliness that

wastes everyone’s

time

fall asleep in the

arms of an angel

some majestic soul

that has decided

you’re the lucky

one

finally, a damn lottery

i didn’t have to buy

a ticket for

J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is trapped in suburbia, plotting his escape. He’s been widely published over the years, most recently at Lothlorien Poetry Journal, The Beatnik Cowboy, The Dope Fiend Daily, Disturb the Universe Magazine and Horror Sleaze Trash. Rumor has it, he may have a new book of poems coming out sometime in 2025. You can find him daily on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)