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these earlier appointments
i hate
these
earlier
appointments
i’m stuck in
a waiting room
with the damn
soap operas on
the faces are a
little older and
fucked up after
that many
facelifts
the shows are
still the fucking
same
someone is
cheating on
someone and
someone else
is back from
the dead
i don’t blame
the actors
the hacks that
write this shit
should be
blamed
of course,
they get paid
more than a
lonely poet
does
a glass of brandy
i poured myself
a glass of brandy
the other night
and my mother
looked at me
like i was crazy
i told her this
is sophisticated
white trash at
its finest
a glass of brandy
from a bottle that
cost more money
than i make from
poetry in a year
all while wearing
a dirty t-shirt and
sweatpants
watching
professional
wrestling
bitching about
how so and so
should retire
and they can’t
make him the
damn champion
i hold off on
pouring myself
another glass
i like for the good
shit to last more
than a week or so
all in the tongue
you remember the old school dances
and being the only white kid hanging
out around the black girls
i had a friend once ask how the fuck
does a guy in a guns n’ roses t-shirt
always have a black girlfriend
i told him it’s all in the tongue
i still don’t know if he knows
what that means
but i hate being one of these fools
living off of old memories
i never thought it was going
to be like this
i can hear the old homeless guys
in my head saying that is what
you get for thinking
we are creatures of instinct
not thought
it’s amazing what a few nights
of jack daniels on the street
will teach you
like there are no pretty hookers
cops will only take a bribe if
you are able to sweeten the deal
never walk up on a man pissing
in an alley
and never feed the strays
animal or human
J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is stuck in the suburbs, plotting his escape. He’s been widely published over the years, most recently at Synchronized Chaos, Horror Sleaze Trash, Cajun Mutt Press, The Beatnik Cowboy, and Jellyfish Whispers. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, Evil Delights.