but apathy keeps me alive

another friday night
spent at home
watching the losers
on tv talk about their
friday nights
spent at home
if there ever was a
good time for
a suicide
i think i just found it

a bottle of vodka, a bullet in the chamber, a dreary afternoon with friends

johnny never knew what hit him
he woke up in a pool of blood
sensing no one else around
he assumed it was his own
johnny struggled to open his eyes
his left eye was not cooperating
he was unsure of his surroundings,
whereabouts and a thousand other
a traumatic sense of desperation
filled the room as it battled a
brewing stench for supremacy
of the air
johnny tried to move his arms
and legs to no avail
johnny felt a throbbing pain
around the back of his head
felt like his brains
were slowly leaking
from his skull
in the distance, johnny
heard a door open
he hoped it was either help
or someone coming to
finish him off
'knowing my luck,' johnny
mumbled to himself
'it'll be neither'

a supernova of potential

each time i have a
spasm in my right
eyelid i feel like it's
an impending stroke
and when it passes i'm
not sure if i should feel
glee or disappointment
as neither seem quite
and as i languish
here in this sobering
depression, moment
after moment stuck
in neutral, patiently
waiting for the
camel's back to be
rendered broken
i'm wasting away as
comfortably as i can
a supernova of
potential pissed
away in the neon
lights of a world
better left off to
those that actually
want it

one look at the calendar and it all made sense

i woke up this
morning with
a tremendous
urge to kill or
be killed
it was
and i always
wanted to be
a kennedy

J.J. Campbell (b. 1976) lives, writes and dies a little each day in
Brookville, Ohio. He's been widely published in the small press, most recently in
Trespass, Zygote in My Coffee, Free Verse, The Blind Man's Rainbow and Thunder
Sandwich. J.J.'s most recent chapbook, "feel my disease" was published by
Scintillating Publications.

You can contact J.J. via email at jcampb4593@aol.com

2005 Underground Voices