—————————————————–
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)