An hour into towards
Boston proper, the ground
a blank page of snow
crumpled under rows
of collided cars,
bikes abandoned.
We stopped when we could
see the Prudential in view,
dragging feet until they
wrote our choices down:
Carnage or pneumonia,
as easiest choices
for immediate future.
We were relived when fast feet
met our stagnant tracks.
Other survivors, people
trying to clear out the
nearby campus dorms.
Of course we offered
to help, and they offered
to come along,
but for the longest time,
we stood in silence,
We had detailed zombie dutie
like Powerpoint charts,
the still beasts almost
leaning towards us like
gossipy co-workers,
Still thinking in film
or Marvel Comics
we figured we had reached
a boring point of this film.
Still hopeful to not live thorugh
our own fantasies,
we stood waiting for a writer
to send us a faraway explosion
a women's scream, not just
a shuddering sob under scarves,
any new arc for us to run under.
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