I’ve played zombie video games
and seen so many zombie movies
you could stretch them out
and make a sausage factory out of them.
But I’m really at a loss for words
when it comes to understanding why.
I imagine them walking around
being pulled in different directions
by things that emit heat and warmth
and make noise
drooling buckets of want and fear
into the revolution of toddlerhood
for a never-ending slurp of mother.
Aside from that though,
their meaning escapes me
and just sort of stands there
in a wide-open consciousness
and doesn’t notice anything,
just bumps into the self,
then goes about its merry way,
unimpressed by pretty much everything,
this vague discomfort winding in
and throughout a moment
you can’t quite locate
or communicate with
except by moaning about it.
That’s why I’ve decided
I’m going to think differently about zombies,
sort of chew their emptiness
into something more kind and gentle,
and picture them as wounded baby animals
simply trying to make it home.