I wonder if those drug commercials on the TV actually work. I’m always left shocked by the sheer quantity of side effects and with only a vague idea of what the drug was supposed to be helping in the first place.
It looks like a lot of fun to go gamboling in the meadow with attractive people on sunny days. Fun enough to experience brain bleeds and incontinence? Maybe not. What if we throw in a row on the lake? Well… Horseback riding? Hmm…
Here is a poem to serve as a reminder to us all:
THE ZOMBIE DIET
If it were a thing that I could
Bottle it and
Sell it on the shelves in south beach.
And the imperfectly weighted
Would buy astonishing amounts
And laud the attributes of this
The perfect pill.
And they would extol their thinning limbs
And admire the caverns beneath their cheekbones
Never bothering to read the warning label that
“Side effects may include
Last night I went to put the leftover rice away. I looked at the rice; I got out a container. I looked at the rice again; I got out a different container. It still didn’t work.
My husband thinks it’s funny, but zombies change everything. And a lot of things stop being funny when the world falls to the perambulating dead.
I once wrote a poem about this problem of mine. You’re welcome.
TUPPERWARE AS AN INDICATOR OF SURVIVAL
There are two containers in my fridge
I play it off as if
I had intended all along
The segregation of sauce and noodles.
But the truth will come out
During zombie apocalypse that
Spatial reasoning is not my gift.
It will be exposed as I
Evaluate the expanse
Between me and the zombie
And me and the bunker door
And think to myself
“Oh, yeah, I can totally make that.”
I’m working on a novel right now. It’s a dystopian sci-fi young adult romantic adventure set somewhere in the future, you know… ‘cause we need more of those.
This led me to read again, for the first time in a while, my zombie poems.
So, here’s one for you, for Saturday, for flu season, and for whimsy.
And if this poem finds you actually suffering from this horrible flu, remember, at least it’s just making you horribly sick not turning you into a zombie. Things could be much much worse.
I’m glad it’s not really possible.
There’s enough to worry about with
All over my
Near and dear
Without the risk of immortality.
I had a bug last year.
If I hadn’t gotten better
I would’ve lived forever
In soulless limbo.
Good thing I got my
I’ll post more of these here and there, but if you just can’t wait to sink your teeth into more you can purchase a kindle or paperback version on Amazon, links on the Writings page.