J.J. Campbell

the usual weapons of choice

and the poets grab
a bottle and a pen

the usual weapons
of choice

now picture your 
mother naked on 
the floor of the 
bathroom

and your first thought
is she is dead

or picture pissing on 
your father’s grave

or go visit your sister 
and piss on her utopia 
like how your future 
was flushed so many 
years ago

it ain’t some miracle 
we tend to thrive on 
chaos and dysfunction

we are wired for these
moments

trained to find the right
words to destroy, uplift,
conquer and heal

whatever the words
happen to bring us

when our backs are
firmly planted against
that proverbial wall

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