Poetry from J.J. Campbell

White man with a beard and glasses and a beard and a mustache. He's in a room with some music and movie posters on the walls. He has a Black Lives Matter tee shirt with purple text on a black background.
an old friend
had an old friend
that swore she
would never talk
to me again email
me this morning
wanted to know
if i was still alive
i get the feeling
she was hoping
to never get a
a miserable death
just woke myself up
with a fart that smelled
like some animal met
a miserable death
that's the problem
with going to bed
before the sun
comes up
nothing good happens

before fucking noon
where the smoke smells like roses
i want to live in a world
where david bowie and
tupac are sharing a laugh
over drinks in some neon
laced psychedelic bar
still alive
making music
keeping people questioning
all reality
where the smoke smells like
roses and success is the last

thing anyone thinks about
an uncertain world
uncertain times in
an uncertain world
your soft brown skin
always has a way
of calming me down
two steps back from
that proverbial ledge
destiny is there for
those that need to

i was never meant to enjoy this
i don't complain
about the pain
any longer
the pills don't
and so far,
my liver hasn't
asked or begged
to quit
i figure these are
the days where i
am supposed to
learn that i was
never meant to
enjoy this in the
first place
and as bitter as
the truth is,
it only makes you
strong enough for
the next mountain

of pain

J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is currently trapped in the suburbs plotting his escape. He’s been widely published over the years, most recently at Terror House Magazine, The Rye Whiskey Review, Horror Sleaze Trash, The Beatnik Cowboy and Dumpster Fire Press. You can find him each day on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)

2 thoughts on “Poetry from J.J. Campbell

  1. J.J. Campbell, wry as a night hawk, honeydew under the claws, honest takes on the subjects of his art.

Comments are closed.