J.J. Campbell

by Horror Sleaze Trash on June 15, 2017

J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) was raised by wolves and is now trapped in suburbia. He’s been widely published over the years, most recently at Poetry Pacific, ZYX, Your One Phone Call, Synchronized Chaos and Otoliths. You can find him most days waxing poetic and dreaming of clean hookers on his highly entertaining blog, evil delights. (http://evildelights.blogspot.com)

 


 

 

 

sometimes these things write themselves

 

i was coming

home from the

store today

 

i drove past

a cemetery

and there

was a funeral

going on

 

i noticed the

song playing

on the radio

was another

one bites the

dust by queen

 

i laughed and

reached for pen

and paper

 

 


 

 

one of those memories

 

the delicate

dance of life

 

seeking balance

 

between light

and dark

 

good and evil

 

my tongue

slides down

your beautiful

tattooed legs

 

this will surely

end up being

one of those

memories

 

that will keep

me young

 

 


 

 

the corner of your beautiful eyes

 

saw a shooting star

in the corner of your

beautiful eyes

 

made my wish and

then watched you

walk off with your

future husband

 

damn good thing

i’m patient

 

 


 

 

the eagerness of a horny teenager

 

come fuck me

boots walk into

the women’s

restroom across

from the lobby

of the doctor’s

office

 

i watch with the

eagerness of a

horny teenager

 

just once in my

life i would love

if that door would

crack open and

a lovely finger

would invite

me in

 

i’m always down

for any moment

of deviancy

 

 


 

 

a better life than you

 

you don’t understand

what pain really is

 

try explaining to your

wife that you paid for

her new pretty earrings

by blowing guys in

the park

 

try telling your little

boy that you constantly

think about why he

gets to have a better

life than you

 

do you understand

that pain

 

to never trust

yourself

 

to always feel that at

any second you can

fucking snap and this

whole existence is

doused with the

stinking piss of the

lost child that never

fully recovered

 

do you understand

the pain of seeing a

box of matches and

starting to smile

 

 

http://evildelights.blogspot.com

http://sites.google.com/site/losersincsite/

http://soundcloud.com/j-j-campbell

http://goodreads.com/jjthepoet

 

 

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