Monday, October 13, 2014

Three Poems by J.J. Campbell

plan accordingly

my spirit is
starting to wilt
under all this

and i know
damn well i'm
the cliff

a sane man
would gather

take account of
the situation and
plan accordingly

the joy of not
being sane is i
get to actually

i suppose time
will tell

a spree of some kind

i never trust anyone
who whistles a happy
tune in a graveyard

i never seek advice
from anyone who
hasn't been fucked
over at some point
in their lives

the clueless and the
perfect are absolutely
useless to this world

not saying someone
should go on a spree
of some kind

but i can't imagine
it would hurt things
as they currently are

the crazy life

another empty

yet another
where you
left your keys

the crazy life

although i don't
think getting
drunk at your
parent's house
on scrabble night
counts as a night
that could be
dared to be
called epic

J.J. Campbell (1976-?) lives and writes on a farm in Ohio.  He's been widely published over the years, most recently at Dead Snakes, The Camel Saloon, Pink Litter, Jellyfish Whispers, and Fuck Art, Let's Dance. His most recent book, Sofisticated White Trash (Interior Noise Press) is available wherever you happen to buy books these days.  You can find him most days on his highly entertaining blog, evil delights (

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