Posts Tagged ‘J.J. Campbell’

from my wretched eyes


a quick


from my




an angelic

face that

seems to

be defying

age and



it reminds

me what

a wise old

man told

me when

i was very





prays to

the same




still in her church clothes


i saw this black

woman in the

grocery store



probably still

in her church



but those long

legs and that ass

bouncing with

each step


i could definitely

see her causing

someone to say

the words god

damn at some

point in the



the depraved

part of my

brain wanted

to go sniff her

panties while

she was over

looking at the



but the clever

fuck in me was

busy over at

the bananas


hoping to find

one long enough





i’m watching a

spider weave a

web in the

corner of my



pretty impressed

with the size of



but does that say

more about the

spider or my



these are things

one thinks about

when you’re trying

to not think about

gently placing

a gun in your

mouth and seeking

a better tomorrow

————————————————————————————————————the middle of the day


i often find myself

in the middle of the

day thinking about

you smothering my

face with your big

black ass


i’m just not sure the

best way to go to

make this fantasy

a reality


should i send you an

email that says, hey,

when you can find

some time away

from your family,

can you come over

and sit on my face


is this an occasion

that calls for roses

and a box of



is it a situation i

propose over a

dinner i’m paying



i know




alcohol makes

anything possible


i better bring the

credit cards


————————————————————————————————————disposable joy


a bleary eyed insanity

on a muggy night


the famous are dropping

like flies and i am happy


happy for their misery


happy for the dismay

and chaos left behind


disposable joy disguised

as a legacy


somehow the myths

became truths and

accepted as common



there is a price for perfection


pay it at those fading

pearly gates


do not pass go


do not count the falling stars


do not make me wallow in

your endless streams of

bullshit any longer than the

next commercial break



that little prick writer


the daughter of the

woman that molested

me is getting married



despite my best efforts

to avoid this mind fuck

that little prick writer

inside of me can’t help

himself when it comes

to moments like these


yet he’s finding it quite

hard to scribble down

his genius

(his words not mine)

through the agony

and tears of just how

unfair life can be at



getting frustrated he

tosses the pen across

the room looking for

a cigarette


completely forgetting

that a decade has passed

since those days on the



but the both of us

understand there is

a bottle or two with

our names on it



a faint notion of sweetness


when i close my

eyes i imagine

you taste like

cotton candy

that’s gone



there’s still a

faint notion of



but the rest of

it simply chokes

the good out


not that i ever



even in my



i understand

how lucky i am

to be getting any

at all



fireworks in the rain


listening to some

asshole down the

road trying to light

fireworks in the rain


i secretly wish one

would blow off his

hand so i would get

some enjoyment

from his frustration


just another holiday

where i’m supposed

to buy something


and when i see those

flocks standing around

to see the lights in the



i can’t help but laugh

and think i’m the only

fucker around that

understands what

independence means



slinking off into the shadows


i was never able

to take a bite out

of your neon soul


one of those great

regrets i’ll have

until the day i die


and the problem

with slinking off

into the shadows

are the demons

constantly make

you live that failure

over and over again


it would drive a

better man to



we’re long past

that stage now


a random bullet in

the classic case of

wrong place wrong

time seems much

more appropriate




a criminal on the run


i try to remain patient

anytime i’m in public


when the old women

force a smile upon

their face


as i imagine to them

i’m a criminal on the

run or someone who

is getting ready to

strike again


i usually just keep

my head down and

get whatever i came

to do done as quick

as possible


though i do

understand their

concerns when

they see the fat guy

with the weird facial

hair loading case

after case of beer

in a grocery cart

with a bad wheel


all while humming

psycho killer a little

louder than any human

can say is comfortable



lost and found


an old man got

arrested the other



a ring he claimed

was lost was found

in the panties of a

3 year old little girl


i was hoping he was

going to tell the cops

it was a magic trick

gone awry


but he confessed to

some touching down



which made me wonder

how many other times

did he play lost and

found with the kids




all the curves

where i like



i can’t help but

think about you

sitting on my

face within

thirty seconds

of meeting you


it tends to make

hello a little odd


while pretending

i’m listening

and getting lost

in your eyes


i’m actually


sliding your

panties to the

side and working

my tongue like a

version of me

twenty years



yes, i’ll have

another drink


it’s not often

i eat chicken

wings with a



countless years of just taking it



forgotten and

left for dead


the real reason

i hate myself

is i allowed

the pain to




it’s incredibly

hard to stand

up for oneself

after countless

years of just

taking it


wanting change

is a myth


we want others

to change


leave my utopia

as it is


violence, murder


and deceit


you want change


sometimes you

have to dance with

the devil to get it


and i don’t mind

playing with evil

under a full moon


all my other choices

got me here


the silence you desperately need


harrowing nightmares


fucked up secrets

that no child should

have to bear for

any length of time


let alone an entire life


you can smell the

guilt in the air


hiding behind cheap

perfume and whatever

douchebag body spray

is hot at the moment


try to find an awkward

pause where you can

fake a laugh


or a cry


or whatever emotion

you need to drive

the demons away


seek out the silence

you desperately need


grab your favorite book

and pretend that reading

in the dark gives you

special powers that the

rest of the world should

be very worried about




a hearty chuckle when

you think back to the

innocence of your youth


how it was robbed from

you in your grandmother’s

bathroom by a curious



you can’t help but think

she wasn’t fully aware


but you’re more

comfortable being

a victim than an




rational thought never

found a home in your

abused mind


and there is never

enough alcohol when

you really need to kill

the pain


yet you know at the

heart of the matter


you wouldn’t change

a thing


this is who you are


change is for those who

are not comfortable being