In life or undeath
Zombie poets know
When it's that other Friday
Flocking to the spot
Corner of Bridge and Elm
Even in the blackout
They could find it with their eyes closed
Yet they don't blink
Zombie Matthew arrives early
Out of habit
The rest trickle in
And start late
You know, they're on zombie time
Congregating out front
Their slack jaws let cigarettes fall to the sidewalk
Spurred inside by tonight's feature
They shuffle indoors to commence
After zombie Ryk had chided them
To "stop dragging their feet"
Zombie Charles stamps each hand at the door
DELIVERED
Zombie poets accept it silently
Appreciating the cruel irony with woeful moans
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