Poems Part 3

Zombie gratitude

A cup of cold water puts off headaches
and heartaches and all kinds of aches,
dried-out and alone in this place
where some attack us with laughter
until we shuffle away, moaning for brains
like our own to devour. Their spongy meat
tastes sweet to dry tongues, loosens
the lies about what we deserve.

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Biten

Go run like hell from the wasted cities
into the praries full of fire poppies
we can carry your family photos
at least until we run out of roadway.
Should the zombies take me to a club-like
place--a desperate crowd moving awkwardly--
if i turn, please remember the good times.
Please shoot me afterwards, but not before,
my skins sloughs off like an overcooked shell
and my eyes yellow, my tongue swells into a fist
and splits like a rotten mango. Sometimes,
it's better to burn hot than to rot away.
I don't want you to wonder if I could
have been saved by grace or just a good nap.
"Vengeance is nuclear," Sayeth the Lord,
trip the switch and light up us zombies
so my love shall be preserved from my want.
This just in--Austin is no longer safe.
The dead have arisen, cranky and bored.
How long will it take them to rot away?
Wearing down their stumps on the long highways?

I want to eat you.
Is this not love? Desiring,
and not knowing why?

You didn't shoot me.
It could have meant something.
Did you remember Tijuana?
The old white weathered farmhouse in Valentine, Nebraska?
Where we tumbled
from one sunshine into the next.

I see now
the lust and anger and all the other 1000 shocks that the flesh is heir to ... all wasted ...
I am too much i' the sun, and my flesh falls off in big chunks.
And the stars! They now seem with my zombie eyes
as a thousand brilliant jeweled seraphim!
In a cloud of inky blackness!
So pure and dark it
would take
your breath away!
(Mine has already been taken away)

I don't sleep any more.
Just let the insects crawl over me
They are so beautiful!
Did you know that they can burrow in your flesh!

I love them.

Did you know that you are so tasty? Like ham! Let
me in
so I can tear off a piece of your face with my teeth
and feed it to you!
So you can see!

I.
Want.
You.
So.
Badly.
Before my claws.

My withered fists,
can no longer caress.
Only club,
If you saw me,
you would shoot me,
this exquisite mind in a weathered frame,
if there is an antidote,
find me.

You shouldn't shoot me right away
but run
and I turned, & turned, & turned, &
exposed myself into the rotting care of
flesh,
a pair of lungs rotting in a withered chest of bone,
sinew dropping,
feet shuffling off.
Eyes burning and shriveling with dry heat
the tear ducts withering
all liquid gone
but still I look for you.
My hunger is what I will share with you.

I will wait for you, my love.
Come find me.

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