bomb threat
 
bomb threat in the
next town over at
a parts factory
 
they normally
happen at a high
school
 
someone wants to
get out of a quiz
 
but at a factory
the only thing
i can think of
is today must
have been
drug test day
 
opioids are still
mighty popular
out here in the
sticks
-------------------------------------------------------
been tricked so many times before
 
some angel will surely
want to love me one
of these days
 
i just hope i am still
breathing when that
moment arrives
 
been tricked so many
times before all the
options on the dark
side of life have
become ever more
appealing
 
my patience is wearing
thin these days
 
i wouldn't say i have
lost hope, just that it
does an incredible
job playing hide
and seek
------------------------------------------------------------
before desperation becomes...
 
pretty quiet outside
aside from the cars
and occasional trucks
driving by
 
this is the eerie quiet
before the shit hits
the fan
 
before arguments are
ended in gunfire
 
before desperation
becomes the saddest
note
 
written in blood
 
found on the floor
 
among dirty underwear
and a nearly empty
bottle of jack
------------------------------------------------------
a morphine drip
 
you always wanted
a morphine drip for
christmas
 
thought that would
be the perfect gift
that kept on giving
 
the times have changed
 
drug dealers seem
to not mind killing
off their own customers
 
chasing that elusive
high, you should be
willing to die for it
 
every junkie has told
me that
 
i'm not chasing that
high
 
not even chasing
perfection
 
simply a stubborn
prick that wants to
die on his own terms
 
bruises fresh on the
arms and legs
----------------------------------------------
burden
 
the spanish princess
believes she is too
much of a burden
for me
 
and no matter how
much i argue that
this is not the case
she won't change
her mind
 
i shouldn't feel like
i lost something that
i never had, but i do
 
but heartache at this
point of my life doesn't
sting as much as when
i was younger
 
i'm guessing because
the finish line is in view
and i know i won't have
to deal with any of this
much longer

J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is trapped in suburbia, slowly losing hope. He’s been widely published over the years, most recently at just good poems, The Beatnik Cowboy, Horror Sleaze Trash, The Black Shamrock and The Rye Whiskey Review. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)