Friday, July 13, 2018

i look in the mirror and see my father
there are days when
i look in the mirror
and see my father
that's usually when
i start looking for
the razor blades
this shit always
comes up around
father's day every
damn year
one of these years
i'll finally put that
damn demon in the
ground to go along
with the body
of course, that would
mean having to go to
the grave i suppose
time to think of
a better way
makes room for progress
i laugh at the number
of smokers that have
oxygen tanks
i'm surprised their
doctors haven't
alerted the authorities
of course, the
authorities probably
couldn't give two
shits if the homes
of the poor blow
makes room for
for condos
or yet another
fucking strip mall
where the trash belongs
your dreams consist
of dark brown skin
kissing you over in
the corner of a jazz
where coltrane and
charlie parker play
around each other
every single night
a sweet tongue finds
the back of your soul
and forever seems
certainly possible
but the evil spirits
always get to you
the first glass is
the second is bitter
and the third is
your realization that
no one should ever
fear death
the angels nudge you
along your way
into the streets, where
the trash belongs
pain and misery await
you upon arrival
you might think you
deserve better
you don't
most call it love
i look in your eyes
and taste honey
dripping from
my lips
a rush of emotion
passion, confusion
most call it love
i've been out of the
game for so long
i no longer am sure
but i know the way
you make me feel
think, dream
like there is something
other than this fucked
up existence out there
for me
i yearn to wake up
in your arms
to hear you laugh at
one of my jokes
to look each other
in the eye and know
that forever is just
around the corner
my escape
it figures
the world gets
crazy and my
escape is to fall
in love with a
woman that lives
in a country i'll
probably never
get to visit
the money will
dry up and i can't
imagine someone
willing to give up
living in rome to
choose to live in
no matter
how handsome
funny and good
with my tongue
i am
a creepy old fucker
the younger women
never sit near me
they would rather
stand than risk a
moment near a
creepy old fucker
give them a few
years and they
will understand
the pleasure of
just a little bite
J.J. Campbell

Helpless I do not know if good intentions prevail among the elected, among the appointed, leaving me apprehensive that the fate ...