Poetry from J.J. Campbell

Middle aged guy with a big beard standing in a bedroom
J.J. Campbell
on the horizon
these old bones
are tired
death is on
the horizon
the sun getting
closer every
damn day
crystal fucking clear
the sheep still
believe because
they don't know
they are allowed
a different way
of thinking
and no matter
how bad their
lives get they
still have to
but just wait
until the church
fucks them over
then that sad
reality becomes
crystal fucking
god never existed
jesus was the
unlucky fuck
that failed to
read the fine
print of his
and the bible
obviously was
a success
but to be honest,
a pretty boring
coffee-stained nightmares
laughter in the
fading sunlight
nightmares of a
broken soul left
to rot in a concrete
bless your heart
means something
else around here
stealing kisses
in a laundromat
parking lot
the lunatics
are running
the fucking
and here come
all the excuses
and lies and the
endless beliefs
that such a thing
should never be
enjoy the deafening
the last fading glance
here come the nightmares
the sweaty nights of what
could have been
the endless thoughts of the
last kiss
the last intimate touch
the last fading glance of
two souls driven apart
and two souls adrift hardly
ever bump into each other
this isn't a fucking lifetime
the slashes up the arm are
real life
not a cry for help
but a moment in time
a bookmark, meant to have
something funny on it
now covered in blood
from experience
at the age
where you
must pick
where you
are sitting
too low
and you
are stuck
there for
a while
too high
and your
back will
tell you to
fuck off
just right
and you
have the
the easy
shit is now
a struggle

J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is trapped in suburbia, plotting his escape. He’s been widely published over the years, most recently at Horror Sleaze Trash, Terror House Magazine, The Beatnik Cowboy, Black Coffee Review and Cajun Mutt Press. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights.

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