—————————————————–

trapped in the neon

one of those summer

nights where those

lovely eyes trapped

in the neon won’t

leave your mind

the kind of nights

where a carton of

cigarettes and a

bottle of jack

wouldn’t last

until dawn

loneliness aches like

no other pain as you

approach fifty

the friends have

wives and kids

you have a closet

full of baseball cards

and notes from high

school of what could

have been

echoes of laughter

will take you to hell

before any sleep

can be had

only the sick enjoy

the sickness

a drop of sweat

on a typewriter

years of pain

just like all

the other fools

———————————————-

from the grocery store

there is a sign

on the side of

the road that i

see when i drive

home from the

grocery store

it says drive like

your kids live

around here

when i see that

sign, i hit the gas

all my kids were

aborted

if they are still

around here

someone has

some fucking

explaining to

do

————————————————

booty shorts

the ugliest people

wear the skimpiest

clothes

first day of the heat

and a fat woman has

on booty shorts where

there is no booty

and then of course

i remind myself

the beautiful people

live south of here

the dregs of society

are still up here

present company

included

————————————————–

gave up on me

went to sleep right

as i heard the news

that the pope had

died

i had a dream the

catholic church

couldn’t find a

new one as all

the pedophiles

knew they couldn’t

take the job

i gave up on religion

right about the time

god gave up on me

more than one christian

has asked me to pinpoint

the moment and i always

say probably when one

too many of you decided

being molested was all

part of god’s plan for me

that hard liners know

they never can change

my mind

the thinkers know there

are much easier things

to think about

—————————————————-

an old man approaching death

i believe my left hip is

nothing but arthritis now

i walk with a limp

not the fucking cool

kind but an old man

approaching death

the spanish princess

offered to take a bath

with me

if either of us could

survive the thousands

of miles between us

it would be worth

every cent and ounce

of pain

these are the nights

i finish a bottle or two

and hope it kills the pain

for a few hours of sleep

yet another day of pop

up thunderstorms and

unrelenting heat

and here i thought

the glory years would

have a better feel to

them

instead, i can’t help

but think of my father

and how that sad sack

of shit was always right

J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is trapped in suburbia, slowly dying like everyone else. He’s been widely published over the last 30 years, most recently at Misfit Magazine, Disturb the Universe Magazine, The Beatnik Cowboy, Mad Swirl and Yellow Mama. He might have a new book coming out soon, at least that is the rumor. You can find him most days betting on soccer and baseball and whatever other sport he thinks he can hit a big parlay on. He also has a blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)