Zombie Apocalypse 30/30 #30 "Twist Ending"

This is the part with the screaming. It never ends
well: crisis over, survivors victorious. No, this is when
the bad thing happens. The twist at the end, a dream
from which you wake to a dream of waking, but then

wake up to horror, forever. If I wasn’t smiling so hard,
you might believe me, it doesn’t matter. I know
it’s true. I’m the rotten seed, trojan horse, evil twin –
looks just like me but is filled up with this poison;

Everyone here is dead, before it starts. People here
know what I can do: I’m good with a rifle, I know how
to turn most anything into a trap. They trusted me
without ever wondering who I was before all this fell

on our heads. Why I’m so good with different knives
and disappearing in the night. They trusted me
and trust I felt the same about them. Never asked
to see the wound I say I got from the window nail

and now it doesn’t matter. I’m inside the safe place
and thigs will not end well for them. I’ve been dead
to them since right after the bite. I switched sides
long before I started to cool to room temperature.

Zombie Apocalypse 30/30 #29 "Out All Night"

Yeah... I was out all night... sorry
about that. Hope you didn't worry
too much. I just got caught up
in what I was doing, raiding old
Walmarts for the remaining cans
and boxes of food, ammunition,
this cool dvd I found. Someday
maybe, we'll find a dvd player
and a generator. In this movie,
the people still run from zombies
but it's got a killer soundtrack
of punk rock music. My arm? Oh
I cut that on some exposed nail
climbing out of the same window
I crawled in through. Irony, huh?
Still... a common wound, nothing
to worry about... let me in please.
It's me... I'm so damn hungry...

Zombie Apocalypse 30/30 #27 "Palladin"

I'm not what you'd call a smart man. I'm not
God-fearing, I was raised to believe my Jesus
loved me. That's why he died and rose again.
All this mess has nothing to do with this. Hell

came to live in our town, but it's not the Lord,
it's not Jesus, it isn't even 4 horsemen. Forget
what the preachers say, for they are men. Men
can become so afraid they forget how to stand

up to whatever hand has been dealt them. That
is what my Jesus taught me. He and I may differ
on the holiness of my AA-12 Automatic shot gun
but I know it is His hand that guides me. Alive,

I've kept His Word alive in the hearts of people
I've saved from these revenant Hell-walkers;
against their hordes the best weapon is hope.
I did what I did because I believed the words

of proud and arrogant men. They assured me
they had found a cure in their medical research.
They claimed they could turn them back. "Think
of the people we could save!" And so I worked

for them, organizing volunteers to help in this
mass production of their wonder-cure serum.
"Dangerous work with dangerous chemicals, so
we lose many..." That's what they told me, but

I didn't believe them. I'm the man Jesus wanted
me to be, I couldn't pretend I saw something
other than what i saw: something wrong. Now
I know the deceit of these men. The volunteers?

Dead to a single one. It's the pituitary gland, see?
That's the secret ingredient in the cure. It must
come out of a living human. They'd use the poor
to recover the wealthy and the powerful, and also

as defense against infection. That was their plan.
While Jesus and I usually differ on this shotgun
and its relative holiness, now is not that time.
I'm bringing twin barrels of judgement, spitting fire

five time per second. I am the wrong Bible story
for these arrogant men to fuck with. I am both
steel and the righteousness to use it. What's right
is right, even now, in the face of armageddon,

especially now. Hell has come to Earth and now
is the time to draw a line in the sand. Jesus and I
are standing on this side. Why don't you come
over and join us. Here, there is still some hope.

Zombie Apocalypse 30/30 #26 "Hip & Dead in NYC"

It is hard to put it all together:
the thoughts, the memories,
each step leading to the next.
Sometimes, I'm so full of myself

and other times I am the sum
total of all my empty spaces.
I have a desert in my stomach,
I have a sink-hole in my heart;

my mouth knows only the full
echo of my own moaning. Hell,
if I had known this was the price
of a shambling afterlife, why I

would've let myself get bitten
long ago. You can shove this
pale ethic of "do unto others
as you'd have them do unto

you." I am a zombie and I am
proud. We are the last laugh
on a consumerist culture gone
all cannibal on itself. We are

the face of tomorrow: endless,
bottomless, without misgiving;
we consume like there's no such
thing as tomorrow. We deserve

everything that we can fit inside
our mouths. We will chew it up,
we will make it part of our bodies
We are the blank generation, and

we can take it or leave it each
time. Remember the guy who sang
that? He called himself Richard Hell.
I think he rose from the cold grave

a few days ago, wanting nothing
more than to be heard in death
as he wasn't in life. Also, it seems
he wants Tom Verlaine... badly.

Zombie Apocalypse 30/30 #25 "Thinker"

cognito ergo
sum zombie: I think, therefore
I am so hungry

Zombie Apocalypse 30/30 #25 "I Cannot See, but I Know"

even in the snow
storm, they are out there, waiting
moaning in the dark

Zombie Apocalypse 30/30 #24 "Astir in the Manger"

he was unborn to the undead
on this day, our saviour made
of old flesh given new purpose.
Risen in a manger, surrounded
by three wise men and shepherds
and all their flock – everyone dead
and partially eaten. A star above
had led them through the night
and next to that, their own flesh
was the only gift they had to give.

Zombie Apocalypse 30/30 #23 "Holy Night"

I know they are all down there, singing
their songs by candlelight and wishing
each other a merry... *BANG!* ... sorry
about that. As I was saying, all of them
so focused on reclaiming some aspect
of this season. That's why I am up here
*BANG!* making sure what they want
is what they get. On this night at least,
let them enjoy the delusions and be
safe, without *BANG!* worry. They think
of me as this cold guy; remote, removed.
At least half of them think I'm as scary
as *BANG!* those things outside. I'm not
arguing with them either. To be a sniper
is to be nothing other than the *BANG!*
conduit between gun and target. Bone
and muscle, finger and eye – all I am
is about the straight line, cool squeeze,
*BANG!* Christmas Miracle that uses
a gun to keep my people below free
to make of this night something holy.

Zombie Apocalypse 30/30 #22 "Silent Night"

They said I had to be out of my mind
wanting to celebrate Christmas this
year, that survival was all we had
to be thankful for, that the stories
were lies, and worse, hope was harm
just waiting to happen. I said "Shut up
all of you and open your presents."

See, Jenny used to talk all the time
about this special-composite bat
she saw once, and it's no surprise
that Steve's jokes about shoveling
his driveway with a flame thrower
each winter, masked a child's dream
come true come Christmas morning.

Finding these things was hard enough,
hiding them for a few days? Almost
impossible. But it gave me something
to focus on other than death. My gift
was seeing their faces look a little bit
like before all this happened: normal.
I won't tell them how I risked myself

raiding that 7/11 out by the main town
just to find ingredients for the eggnog.
The stockings are just plain wool socks,
but the handguns inside are the gifts
that keep on giving. This year we have
a small piece of a holiday we used to
curse. We enjoy some time together.

I'll tell them about the bite tomorrow.

Zombie Apocalypse 30/30 #21 "Zombiecicle""

zombie in winter
crack crunch snap thud- I'm thinking
we can stroll away...

Zombie Apocalypse 30/30 #20 "First Thought"

everything makes me
hungry. I haven't eaten
since the burial

Zombie Apocalypse 30/30 #19 "Barker"

It all comes down to this: parts is parts; that's true
no matter if you're a mechanic or just a regular joe
struggling to put a puzzle together. I'm in charge
of the haunted house at this traveling carnival,
and you'd think, that with all this shit going on
that people would stop going to places like this.
I think it's just the opposite – people need us
to show them a horror they can look in the face,
and it doesn't matter if they blink, they're safe
behind the chicken-wire and 2-inch plexi-glass.
Like I say, there's always money in the aftermath

of tragedy; No ill wind that doesn't want to give
someone a blow job. Like me – the ringmaster
and the backstage staff, all in one. I sell tickets
too. I'll make some popcorn if you've got some.
I'm just trying to put on a show in difficult times,
trying to spread some smiles around. it's hard
work, but you have to have a purpose; an idea
that keeps you going like a candle in the dark
that lets you throw curses at the darkness. I am
always looking for the next big thing, if anything
I am a master at being resourceful. I've created

great new attractions from the available parts:
arms for coat-hooks with the hands attached,
as you enter my freak-show; teeth that snap
in the dark; I've hooked a heart up in stereo
for a soundtrack. Do you like that? Do you want
to know some of my ideas? Yes, I have ideas
for new attractions. It's not like we're in danger
of running out of raw materials anytime soon.
So come one, come all, to the greatest show left
on the planet. Pay what you have, we have three
rings, seven seals, seven trumpets blowing...

Zombie Apocalypse 30/30 #18 "Rising, Wandering"

I'm awake because I need to eat.
My bare feet slap on the cold floor.
All I wanted to do was sleep.

It feels like I haven't, for weeks
or maybe months, or maybe more.
I'm awake because I need to eat

something warm and wet – raw meat.
I remember a perfect steak tar tar...
All I wanted to do was sleep,

now I'm trying remember recipes,
while trying to remember what for.
I'm awake because I need to eat,

my stomach full of blasphemy.
I thirst for terror, I dress in gore.
All I wanted to do was sleep

but that is peace denied to zombies.
Spreading, we are at your every door.
I'm awake because I need to eat.
All I wanted to do was sleep.

Zombie Apocalypse 30/30 #17 "The Lonesome Death of Matthew Richards" or "What Are Friends For?"

Matthew... I want to say I'm sorry, but I'm not
going to waste those kind of words, not now.
We both knew that if things ever went bad
for one of us, we knew we could trust the other
to do the right thing, the kind thing, the only
thing that matters: Don't let me become one
of them! I won't, I promised you. We played
the odds, just like everybody trying to stay
alive these days. It wasn't that I was better
at this than you; it was just you who fell down
at the wrong time, whose gun jammed, who
knew as well as anyone, there is a zombie
out there with our name on its cold, wet lips.
I am your friend always. I promise to do it quick.

Zombie Apocalypse 30/30 #16 "Gunning for Matthew Richards (A Prologue)"

this haiku exists
as warning: you've gone all
zombie, I must kill you...

Zombie Apocalypse 30/30 #15 "Communion"

First, you have to drop your prejudices
against the dead. We're the same as you
in a lot of ways. We don't lose any sleep
over what's happened to us, other than
the 'big sleep.' We're just trying to get by

as well as we can, in the time we have
left, before we lose ligaments and tendons
to rot and we fall apart like bad puzzles.
That's right – we have health concerns
just like you air-suckers. That's our name

for you people. The Warm Ones. Pulse
Babies. You're all such hypocrites, all
of you. You love the way we're portrayed
in the movies; the enterprising ones
amongst you even create one or more

of us. But if you meet us in the street,
on neutral ground, it's all "Scream" this,
and "shoot 'em in the head" that. Life
and Death are connected naturally. Why
can't we all get along? Are we so awful

when you really look at us? Our beauty
is raw and savage; it changes every day.
We don't have the skin for it to be deep.
We are creatures as obvious as we are
honest. We're a known quantity. You know

what you get with us. But we'd like it
if you didn't call us "zombies." It's racist,
factually inaccurate. We're the "Returned,"
we are Revenants, some of us prefer being
called "Cannibal-Americans." We choose

our names 'cause names are important.
Otherwise you are whatever people call
you. There is a man many of you worship
because he rose from the dead. Zombies
believe we were made in his mirror image:

he asks that you eat of his flesh, and drink
of his blood. He asks you to shamble towards
the light. We are the opposite of that, eating
and drinking from others; walking towards
the cool darkness, chewing his Holy Name.

Zombie Apocalypse 30/30 #14 "Brains- the Fuel of Excellence" by Tony "Bite You in The Face" Robbins"

(from a prompt by Paulie Lipman)

I’ve always been ambitious. Call it a hunger
‘cause I have made meals of my adversaries
and anyone else who ever stood in my way.
I was born a talker. I’ve always been good
with my mouth. I am ravenous for success,

I am smart and well-liked and I deserve to win
at any game I choose. Look at how I dress –
none of that “just dug my ass out of the grave”
nonsense. I dress to kill and I’m a death threat
when I wear an Armani suit. You can’t afford

these shoes, and my trench-coat costs more
than your average air-breather has ever seen
in their lives. You can recognize me because
I drive a sick car, I’m the zombie puts the “alpha”
in Alpha Romero. That’s an inside joke. Keep up

with me if you can, because I am going places
the living dead have never even dared to dream
of shambling towards. Those shining bright lights
in my rear-view mirror is another world-class city
in flames. I have my eyes dead-fixed on the goal:

the next city. I have invested in razor-sharp teeth,
a smooth and natural walk, and the clear night vision
to see myself right where I want to be in five years:
my own boss, eating brains because I want to, not
because I have to. The whole world is my oyster. Yum.

Science Hero

We tied the zombies together
with wireless signals, replaced
dessicated eyes with telephoto
lens, best high-res, infra-red.
The purpose was to learn it all:

roaming patterns, feeding habits,
attack vectors. You have to see
all the deaths we filmed as intel,
as research findings; necessary

for the long-view. The next thing.
Where we go from here. Someday
I'll be seen as authentic visionary
hero: the man who saved the world

from itself by harnessing the living
dead, not destroying them. The world
will thank me. Children will learn
my name in school. Parents will hope

they grow up to be a science hero,
just like me. History will re-write
everything I've done into brave genius.
There will be no mention of the bodies.

Zombie Apocalypse #12 "Daddy's Little Girl"

It's true... you can look in your daughter's eyes
any time, and see the little girl she used to be.
If you don't have kids you don't know. You can't
imagine what those heart-strings can sing like.
You can't hear the echoes of every moment
that lead to this. How there's been so much loss
that you want to hold onto something, hold her
the way you used to, before everything got crazy.

For my family, like anyone in my neighborhood,
the crisis didn't start all at once. We heard news
stories and didn't believe them. We told jokes
like "This zombie walks into a bar... bartender sez,
"We don't serve your kind. So the zombie eats
his brain!" "You should've had the zombie say,
"Is this bar tender?" And we'd laugh, drink beer
and "stand watch." Things like this don't happen

to people like us." We really used to believed that.
One day my daughter comes crying to me, says
she was "playing in the woods and found a baby,
but it was a mean baby, and it bit her, and now
I have an 'owie' on my arm..." I was so... calm,
I cleaned her wound. I used witch-hazel, alcohol.
She cried, but I told her it would help her feel
better. She said "I don't feel so good." "Daddy,

I feel sick..." "Daddy... I feel cold... Daddy...help me,
I'm hungry..." To this day, I've only seen one zombie
at a distance. I wanted to keep shooting it, even after
it fell. I wanted to blow its head to wet chunk pieces
and then keep shooting every little bit of madness
back into the grave. I don't have near enough bullets
for that. See, people who don't have kids don't know
just how precious those last two bullets can be...

Zombie Apocalypse #11 "If I Should Die Before I Wake"

the screams are always
bad at night. what's worse, I woke
myself up again