poetry, politics

Zombie Movies

I’m watching zombie 

Movies and the phone

Pinging with

Fits of neuroses

Squeezed into strait jackets

Not even a silver of moon

And everyone goes feral

Happy, bland faces

Gnawing at people’s futures

To feed a belly adapted for

some notion of justice

it is a hunger

Bland and cold

Relentless and puritan

The mob, clawing

And I turn the movie off

But it doesn’t end anymore

Does it?

I finger the faded bite scars

Remember how I too

Shambled and bit on

Hearsay

But I’m human now

Forgiving and puzzled

By how mindless hunger

Is mistaken for hilarity

And the disinfecting

Sunlight

when (read another book)

It’s all too close to beautiful

To see

The headshot rebuilt 

My brain

And I shut the door

Hear their nails clawing at the door

Wonder when they’ll come 

For

Me

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