---------------------------------------------------------------------
straight from cuba
 
seek out the lord
in the piano bar
down the street
 
maybe in the
curves of the
beautiful woman
playing the bass
guitar
 
maybe the lord
is lining up on
the table in the
corner
 
or unzipping her
shirt a little as she
tries to make an
impossible combo
shot
 
seek out the lord
in a plume of cigar
smoke straight from
cuba
 
the lord surely must
be in this glass of
whiskey
 
you have to be
a little drunk to
believe in a place
called heaven
-----------------------------------------------------------
proud to say
 
spent the afternoon
listening to dolly
parton songs while
my mother was in
her physical therapy
session
 
proud to say
none of the
poems were
about the
obvious
-----------------------------------------------------------
the conversations get a little wordy these days
 
i never had the need
to keep up with anyone
 
never cared for kings
and queens, presidents,
principals or gods
 
got really comfortable
talking to myself at
an early age
 
the conversations get
a little wordy these days
 
someone wants to show
off all those thirteen letter
words they know
 
i know i am the odd one
 
the one everyone could
think would be the next
mass gunman
 
and i have never even
owned a gun
 
although the local gun
shop and i share the
same first name
-----------------------------------------------------------------
live longer than me
 
walking with my mother
up and down the sidewalk
on a finally sunny day
 
she wants to get more
mobile again
 
either she really feels
alive again or she is
determined to see if
she could live longer
than me
 
my anxiety has put
the money on her
 
it must have forgotten
how stubborn i really
am
 
i could probably live
to 100 just to fucking
spite everyone
-------------------------------------------------------------
who will check my emails when i die
 
the white noise
is meant to calm
 
dull you to sleep
instead, it is slowly
driving me insane
 
who will check
my emails when
i die
 
do ghosts need
dick pills or
have the desire
to contribute to
a political
campaign
 
sleep in the
sunshine
 
go drinking
at midnight
 
the lost souls
like to gather
at the corner
 
humming jane says
like we did thirty
years ago
---------------------------------------------------------------

J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is old enough to know better. He’s been widely published over the years, most recently at The Beatnik Cowboy, Horror Sleaze Trash, The Black Shamrock, The Rye Whiskey Review and Yellow Mama. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)