Other Poems by:

J.J. Campbell


i live in a home, a community,

a state where the holidays are

treated as the most glorious time

of year


where the decorations and neon

seem fucking endless


where the town is revved up by

an appearance of santa


where all these fucks wet themselves

hoping for a white christmas


and as i shoveled away 18+ inches

on christmas eve morning

i hoped all of them were truly

fucking happy


i can only wish that a healthy

dose of dysfunction would be

stuffed into their stockings


a little reality to balance out all

that fucking joy

when insanity meets the evening news

another school shooting


a dying woman exploited 

for political gain


a wife will be beaten tonight 

over an unwise bet in a one 

point basketball game


and the cheap gas is 

selling at $2.15 a gallon


kids killing kids

on the corner of 

poverty entrenched

city streets


while the vacant houses 

are burned for fire 

fighting practice


i suppose the homeless 

will inherit the earth

after the rich are 

done with it




maybe not


sleep fast angels for the 

wars will never cease


and when the local kids 

come home in a box

the brainwashed loved 

ones smile and talk about

freedom, duty, love of country


tell that to your son 

who died because this

was his only way to 

a college education


don't look now, but since 

you don't believe in the

ever present conservative 

agenda, you're going to 



for god has lent our government

the ability to pass judgment


who knew that oil, a rebel flag

and a hatred for the poor was

actually the stairway to heaven


oil spills, pissed away resources

mudslides and flood insurance


weapons of mass what? 

come again?


old men hoping to fuck 

young girls who turn out 

being detectives on the 

other end of the cyber line


and the neo-cons won't 

sleep until all of us raise 

our right hands, place it over 

our darkened, hardened hearts

and belt out the pledge of allegiance


and if this is the greatest 

country on earth i pray to 

whatever god that may be 

listening that there is life 

on other planets or in some 

galaxy the next ultra billionaire 

will want to fly to


pretty please


this can't be the 

pinnacle of existence



god's running joke with me

got a nude picture 

in the mail today

from a married 

woman in california




the taken ones that 

live thousands of 

miles away

want to fuck me


all part of god's 

running joke

with me called 


a long overdue drunken episode

i took a shit in the 

bathtub this evening


it's been that kind 

of fucking life


and some will say 

it's insanity

finally settling in


others will claim it's 

an overwhelming

defiant act of apathy


and i, the clown 

that shit in the tub, 

know it is neither


in my poetic reality


somehow my actions 

were tempting the 

hands of a lesser god 

who obviously has 

more important people 

to waste his time on


but in actual reality


it was simply a long 

overdue drunken 

episode with sadly, 

a less than desirable 



no reason why actual 

reality should ever 

change its' shitty ways



stuck in traffic

staring at the long haired 

beauty in the car next to me


dreaming about our lips 

meeting in a warm embrace


ripping off our clothes 

post haste


fucking out in the rain 

in a dark alley somewhere


passionate moans bouncing 

off fading brick walls


i open my eyes to notice

she's giving me the finger


now back to our regularly

scheduled programming


J.J. Campbell (b. 1976) lives, writes and dies a little each day in Brookville, Ohio. He's been widely published over the last decade or so in the small press, most recently in Zygote in My Coffee, Trespass, Free Verse, The Blind Man's Rainbow and Underground Voices. J.J.'s latest chapbook, "feel my disease" was published by Scintillating Publications. You can contact J.J. via email at jcampb4593@aol.com

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