but a sullen moon
it's the final embrace
of a future pissed away
the factories are all
closed and all you have
left is a few scars and
a bad back
snow in the air
yet another christmas
you can't afford
you try your best to
be thankful for what
you do have
but all these beautiful
faces on the television
remind you that failure
tastes like shit
you haven't seen the
sun in three days
if you think the midwest
can be depressing to
begin with, try it in
the darkness
a lonely road
no lights but a
sullen moon
murder in the air
boredom allows for
the monsters to have
fun
--------------------------------------------------
but you look in her eyes
the river is so high
you could just walk
right in and let the
current take you
wherever
it's fucking
tempting
these days
but you look
in her eyes and
immediately hear
an old otis redding
song
and the way she
presses her lips
against your
cheek
you feel like
she's the one
of course, so was
the last one
and the one before
that
bad luck eventually
ends
the sun finds a way
through the clouds
and everyone knows
everything comes
in threes
-----------------------------------------------------------
on a sunday morning
it's that soft
smile
the way her
eyes reflect
the light
coming from
the windows
the way you
imagine she
would look
fucking you
on a sunday
morning
you would
think you
would know
by now the
quiet ones
don't get shit
in this world
you have to
beat your
chest and
let your
barbaric
yawp
free
please, for
the sake of
us all
------------------------------------------------------
lick my way to freedom
i usually fall asleep
to the thought of a
nice round black ass
smothering my face
as i lick my way to
freedom
if i wake up gasping
for air
i check the bed for
bodily fluids
and hopefully there
is nothing other than
fond memories on
my tongue
----------------------------------------------------------
from any depth of hell
she had a smile
that could lift
my soul from
any depth of
hell
part of me
understood
that smile
was never
meant for
me
i never
minded the
consequences
of being a thief
a poor soul takes
what he can get
------------------------------------------------------------------
thirty feet in front of me
sitting in a chair
in the waiting
room
about thirty feet
in front of me is
a nearly perfect
ass on a treadmill
my imagination
smiles
and suddenly
the sun starts
to shine
---------------------------------------------------------------------
J.J. Campbell
