ZOMBIE POETRY!

Zombie poetry is like normal poetry, but with zombies. There are some good zombie poems here. And some good zombie haiku here. And now my zombie poem:

Strange Zombie or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Became a Zombie

The first time I saw you, you were having lunch:
Two arms and a leg, what a crunchy munch!
The second time was at the dinner table:
A severed head; my, were you capable!

Uncouth you were not, nor were you savage,
Nor like a cannibal did your food you ravage.
You sipped your red drink with dexterity
And not the slightest hint of vampirity.

As I plucked courage and came near,
I noticed something that looked familiar.
I asked, “Who be the headless one thus gored?”
“Don’t worry,” you said, “’tis but the landlord.”

Perceiving the lack of trunk and limb,
I asked, “Whither the rest of him?”
“Ah,” you replied as you bit the crust,
“Breakfast, lunch, and tomorrow’s breakfast.”

“I love bald heads,” you added with a grin,
“With a glass of healthy haemoglobin;
Plus, I didn’t like his eccentric accent
And he kept asking for something called rent.

“I’ve feasted whole day on the bald proprietor,
Just a leg is left in the refrigerator;
I’m saving it for the morrow’s munch,
But now I must go looking for lunch.”

Then you raised your head and looked at me,
Your brain was probably saying “Yummy!”
I said, oblivious of what that look meant,
“So even I don’t have to pay any rent?”

“Then in this fair home you too have sought harbour?”
“Yes, indeed, I am your next-door neighbour.”
“Oh!” Your face fell, “Then you cannot be devoured,
For ’tis said, ‘Love thy neighbour, and eat thy landlord’.

While I was sure you’d just made up the second part,
“Devour me?” was all I asked, with a pounding heart.
“No, I can’t eat a neighbour, by Jove!
But I’ve a better plan for you, my love.”

Fear rendered me unable to advance,
Fear of your chillingly cunning glance;
Fascination made me unable to flee,
You got up and rubbed your hands with glee.

You came closer, I was rooted to the spot,
Still unaware of what you sought.
Your hands grabbed my head with a loud WHACK,
My legs gave way, and all went black.

I came to in the lobby, I found myself alone,
And such lightness of head I hadn’t previously known.
Except for a single poster it was an empty lobby,
A poster that read, “Congrats! You’re now a zombie.”

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