—————————————————————————————-
as another soul dies
dense fog, trash night
animals plotting in the
sewer
i didn’t have a murder/suicide
right after giving birth on my
bingo card
humans, the world’s most
dangerous animal
and here i thought opposable
thumbs elevated us
it actually only made it easier
to hold and shoot a gun
watch the money during the war
someone is always getting rich
as another soul dies
a woman asked me tonight why
i don’t have any children
i laughed, told her i never had
a death wish that strong that i
needed to have someone else
do it
she’s still trying to figure
that one out
been raining for almost 24
straight hours
these are the nights on the farm
i would listen to it hit the metal
roof
and then wonder which room
will need a bucket
——————————————————————————-
in a lonesome alley
a howling wind
caught out in
a pouring rain
a homeless man
told me once
pour a tall glass
of whiskey and
saw off a shotgun
and see which
hits your lips
first
he died of cancer
in a lonesome
alley years ago
it was the
whiskey
my friend
the whiskey
————————————————————
life is a video game
somewhere in the distance
i can hear my father saying
he went to vietnam to die
of course, he grew up poor
now, a generation with the
bravery of being out of range
life is a video game
just the weapons naturally
have human consequences
the innocent always die first
almost biblical it feels
why the stupid have to start
wars in the first place is a
completely different poem
this is about the ignorance
the unwillingness to
understand culture
to want the entire world
to bend the knee to the rich
and this is where some fuck
will remind me he nearly died
for my free speech
and i will thank him for that
and then explain the hypocrisy
of him wanting to take it away
———————————————————-
a little extra cash
bent spoon daydreams
the holy ghost needs
a little extra cash
light up a cigarette
under a no smoking
sign
listen to an old black
man play the saxophone
like jazz was just beginning
thumb through the pages
of on the road like you
have already lived it
a lady asks you to step
outside
she locks the door behind
you
they take cancer seriously
around here i guess
up two blocks is an
old bookstore
place where you found
old gregory corso books
for less than a dollar
place is now a clothing
boutique
light another cigarette
time passes all of us by
at least once
—————————————————————-
that clings to you better
one of those nights
where you hope to
fuck the pain away
depravity, a long
lost soul that clings
to you better than
any invisible friend
ever did
they never tell you
if you hate yourself
long enough, you’ll
never remember to
love anyone else
this is where the
dramatic music
comes in and our
hero disappoints
all of us yet again
dying alone is a
process that takes
way longer than
it appears on
television
a tall glass of
scotch
drunken showers
at three in the
morning is my
latest trick to
steal a few
hours of sleep
old enough that
the dreams are
now just waves
and flowers
meant for
a grave
J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is old enough to know where the bodies are buried. The three- time Best of The Net nominee and two-time Pushcart Prize nominee lives with his disabled mother in Ohio. He’s been widely published over the years, most recently at Yellow Mama, The Rye Whiskey Review, Night Owl Narrative, Disturb the Universe Magazine and The Beatnik Cowboy. His latest book, to live your dreams, published by Whiskey City Press, is available on Amazon.com. for more info on the book, go here: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/245883678-to-live-your-dreams.