J.J. Campbell

first time i
was kissed
in over a
decade

the sweet
yearning
dancing
in the air

she was
nervous
and i was
trying my
best to be
cool

as usual,
nothing
went as
planned
or even
whimsically
thought
of

she wants
me to cook
her dinner
sometime

i guess i still
know how to
use my tongue

frustration
is my new
normal

happiness
might as well
be a restricted
zone these days

i’ve stopped chasing
my tail or trying to
murder my shadow

but there’s this sweet
angel in my dreams
that is determined
to kill me

one day, i might
as well let her

i remember how your panties felt in my teenage hands

kissing away a sunny afternoon, i was certain i was in love

you were certain it was only a wednesday

i always fell in love too soon, not often enough with anyone
by my side

i could blame it on the dysfunction of my childhood

perhaps i watched too much cinemax before the age of ten

as i have grown older, and watched countless years of
misery pass before my eyes

destiny has a way of shaking everything out the way
it was meant to be

and sometimes you simply have to avoid the mirrors
and realize loneliness has another side to it

the last resort can wait for another night

the way her ass used to shake
haunts you every time she walks
out of your mind

i once did a line of cocaine off
a hooker’s fine ass

she charged me $50 to let me
watch her blow my friend

i never told her he hadn’t
coughed in weeks

i tend to laugh when someone
is murdered and cry when the
homeless rob a child for money
to eat a lousy cheeseburger

it’s the quiet nights alone,
listening to old otis redding
records, wondering which
plane crashes next

i never wanted to be famous

i once had a woman congratulate
me on mission accomplished

i still laugh when i see her behind
the counter at burger king

holy shit, you sure this thing is
made from plants

if i actually liked people

i suppose i wouldn’t have
to drink alone

i see the
desperation
in your eyes

i’m sure if
you could
creep closer

you would
smell my
fear

two hopeless
romantics

waiting for
someone to
make the
first move

too often
this becomes
a game of
chess

so much
to ponder
before every
anticipated
move

i’d rather
play risk

i laugh at
the women
who tell me
i need to get
right with the
lord to find
a woman

i doubt the
lord likes the
women i find
attractive

digging through the
trash, chicago, late
90’s

i was 23 and sure i
was going to be great
one day

fast forward a few
decades and a couple
lifetimes have passed
me by

greatness is as
subjective as it
needs to be for
the sake of the
ego

i’ve never had anyone
offer me a blowjob
because of a poem

a voice in my head
snickers

picks up a pen and
thinks he’s got what
it takes

my neon soul is
trapped up in the
clouds

somewhere the
ghost of tom wolfe
is sipping on kool-aid

it’s a paper cut that
never heals

a broken heart that
can never satisfy
the need for revenge

it’s a broken body
struggling to survive
yet another day

it’s a lovely black
woman crying to
an old gospel tune

a lonely saxophone
wails in the distance

and here comes the
last beautiful woman
on earth

black lipstick and
purple fishnets

may my final dream
be those lips caressing
what is left of this
tattered soul

editors note: May the last thing we get be the last thing we want. – mh clay

embrace your
failure as effort

your father’s
hands around
your neck as
misguided love

the harder he
squeezes, it’s
simply passion
and the desire
for a better you

look into the
stars at night
and simply
understand
god was out
of the office
when it was
time to decide
who was the
one for you

think of the
lesbian that’s
the love of
your life as
simply a way
to find the
time to come
up with
something

at least he
thinks you’re
worth that
much

bright sunshine
on the first of
may

i hate to see
what kind of
flowers come
after the floods
of april

her long legs
could probably
break me in two

god willing

she’ll be given
the chance