J.J. Campbell

for all the answers you need

two thirty in the morning and 
coltrane is wailing about some 
lost love

the last drops of scotch are gone

the spanish princess awaits me 
in my dreams

this is what happens when you make 
it to the other side and realize hype 
kills everything

the grass is greener but you don’t 
want to know what is in those chemicals

wait twenty years and an oncologist 
will gladly bill you for all the answers 
you need

where all the superheroes are taking bribes

and every broken soul believes there 
is a pole out there where they will 
be a star

fifteen minutes have become 
fifteen seconds

fading like a fart in the ocean

one of those nights where your head 
won’t fit in the toaster

all the knives are dull

three hundred channels and still 
nothing worth watching

crawl into bed and wait for the 
quiet death that never comes

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