as you get older you
learn to manage the
pain
that no one gives
a shit you feel bad
or have aches and
pains
eventually, the voices
become gentle whispers
or maybe this is just
better booze showing
up to the party
they are expecting me
to drink myself to death
i told them i will restock
that bar at least five more
times before i die
they are taking the under
i am filling another glass
—
J.J. Campbell (1976 - ?) is old enough to know where the bodies are buried. He's been widely published over the years, most recently at Synchronized Chaos, Cajun Mutt Press, The Rye Whiskey Review, Misfit Magazine and just good poems. You can find him most of the time on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)