They said "apocalypse" like it was a bad thing.
The silver lining, however, is remarkable.
I bought in to the paranoia,
We all did at first,
Glued with panic to cable news for days
Until the pounding and crashing came to my door.
The pain was temporary,
As was the dread.
I fear nothing now,
And haven't for
Who knows how long.
It's the upside to reanimation, you know,
This lack of concern for time and self-preservation.
Indeed, the eating of brains takes some getting used to,
Among our zombie horde
Only the freshest meat among us
Still bothers with deodorant.
The rest stink of festering wounds
Beyond the realm of any roll-on.
What I miss most of all
Is the dialog.
Guttural moaning
Does not make
For much conversation.
Or poetry.
To my great surprise,
What I do not miss
Is the foolishness of civilization.
Paying taxes on an arbitrary day in April,
Carrying money and phones when leaving the house,
The obligation to consider such foolish inventions as traffic signals,
Being mindful of trespassing over property lines,
Using napkins after we eat.
Licking my fingers with dessicated tongue
I get a second taste of that British fellow with the cricket bat.
He was a fighter, that one.
Funny, too.
I swallow, savoring the memory.
He goes down easy enough now, though.
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