Poetry from J.J. Campbell

J.J. Campbell
J.J. Campbell (1976  ?) is old enough to know where the bodies are buried. He's been widely published over the years, most recently at Mad Swirl, The Nerve Cowboy, Terror House Press, The Rye Whiskey Review and Horror Sleaze Trash. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)
with a little umbrella
snowflakes in the
air and the smell
of a never-ending
winter piercing
the gray skies
i used to love
this shit
the weather
perfect for a
fat guy fashion
now, arthritis
and back pain
run my life
i could fucking
use a sandy beach
and a drink with
a little umbrella
right about now
the beautiful dark souls
wondering where
the black angels
the beautiful dark
souls meant to take
me on a wild ride
and conquer the
that soft brown
skin still dances
in my dreams
kisses me gently
on a private beach
in some tropical
clues me in when
privilege rises its
ugly head
hopefully, i still
can be a lucky

a russian conspiracy against me
i am convinced every
woman i meet online
is part of a russian
conspiracy against
the first one that i
figure out is actually
real and not part of
that mafia
i'm going to surrender
to and let life finally
start to breathe
of course, by the time
that happens, death
will be the more likely

madly in love with me
my former muse likes
to think that she used
to be madly in love
with me
anytime she would
tell me that, i always
wondered if she knew
she was talking to me
of course,
it's my own damn fault
for allowing a beautiful
woman to use me for
as long as i did
thankfully, i woke up
before the gun found

the inside of my mouth
in over forty years of life
a cloudy, damp
valentine's day
for someone
who hasn't
had someone
really love him
in over forty
years of life
these are the
days where
suicide is
a cliche
sorrows in
alcohol is
a waste of
and there
isn't a porn
out there that
adequately takes
care of all the
i'm sure someone
else has it worse
off than me
that's little