Friday, September 30, 2011

Intrigued by a new popular phenomenon,
I guess it could be described as apocalyptic porn.
Irradiated wastelands, zombies, infected, and mutants
---People love that shit, but I think many don't know why.
To many it's a game of how long they could live.
For the more intellectual it's a chance to examine Hobbes,
Or maybe live like Thoreau at a wasted Walden,
But for some maybe it's a message:
Love what still exists.

Those tenacious survivors who made it,
Congratulations, but what do you want?
The sting of legs ceasing to run?
The beat of your heart ceasing to pound
As funeral drums for the songs of society no more.
Or maybe their wants are pragmatic;
They want to try again scratching out a plot of land,
Maybe it's a want to feel safe in their neighbours
(The other ones who make it),
All so they get a second chance
To feel connected with the earth that now rejects them,
Now a scorned lover with no flowers.

Everyone want's to see a zombie walk
And in a way want to stagger alongside it.
Those who are wishing misanthropic,
Will gladly watch the world burning
Egging on the monsters.
Luckily kids, Halloween is right around the corner.

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