Monday, July 20, 2009


never trust a man wearing purple shoes
Poetry by J.J. Campbell
Pocket Protector book 11


Book #11 in our Pocket Protector series of mini-poetry chapbooks, never trust a man wearing purple shoes is the story of a man who's had too much, has dealt with his share of pain, and is coming to terms with the possibility of nearing the end at an age far too young. Over the past few years, Campbell, a 33-year-old veteran of the contemporary small press, has overcome serious health problems, insomnia, a rare blood disease, blood clotting, and obesity to remain standing, one foot on the edge and pen in hand, to tell you about it. This book centers around the psychological and physical aspects of those health problems, genetic defects, hospital stays, heart monitors -- the loneliness, the surrender, and the dark humor that goes with the pain and the knowledge that any day could be your last. The words are dramatic, cautious, hard -- sometimes cold, but always passionate -- reflecting on youth and death in one breath, collapsing into fantasies of love that's hard to find in such conditions, while toying darkly with the idea of suicide and reaching the end. This book takes you on one man's journey of not just coming to terms with the possibility of death, but also with the possibility of survival.

Copies can now be purchased online; or through the mail for $3 (plus $2 US shipping; $3 out-of-US shipping) via cash, check, or money order made out to Alternating Current, PO Box 398058, Cambridge MA 02139 USA; or via PayPal with the email address All authors on our press receive royalties for each copy sold, and each purchase comes with a free random book from the archives while we clean house.

This book includes:

Cover art by leah angstman

Poetry by J.J. Campbell:
welcome to the small press kid
last morning of 2008
the wonderful unknown
5 pm in ohio and it suddenly all makes sense
safety first
forever a romantic
the sadness
this stoic insane face
on god forgetting i exist
the spark of my youth
a bedtime story
somehow it still gets hard
yet fruitless
sunshine on a cloudy day
plastic made perfect
more relief than fear
the empty promise of potential
another nail in my coffin
from my empty bed
piss poor aim
suicide watch
an endless trail of pain


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