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Zombies Lament
I am an army of one
In a legion of zombies
In a fleet of the dead
Up the river, down the river
Styx and stones, professor, break our bones
Skulls and hollowed out innards
Pluck one, professor, pluck two
Make a sound, make a sound
For we cannot, not of our own will
Six years and running, I’ve been an army of one
Good Lord…has it really been that long?
There was a day, you know
In early spring
When I was shaved and groomed
I was primped and polished
My skeleton buried beneath warm flesh
Pulsing through, pulsing full
And throbbing with life
There was a day
Once upon a time,
When I had perfume in my hair
My lover would hold me close, inhale deeply
And we’d feel young
He is gone now; casualty of war
He could not stand the battle, nor bear its call
Women these days, we are Amazons
Sure, the perfume is gone
And we roll out of bed now
Wild-haired and crusty-eyed
With yesterday’s sweat still clinging to our skin
But at least we’ve been hardened by war
Rise at six, work at eight, class at eleven, work at noon, study til ten
And try to be in bed by midnight
March, soldier, march
The market shows no mercy
We should’ve listened to Marx, professor
It’s not enough just to study him now
I am as dead the presidents who run my life
Zombie eating the minds of others
Exploiting the memories of others
Making them my own
So start talking, professor; teach me how to be useful
The zombie only follows her masters call
She joins the amassing fleet on cue
Hitches up her coat, blends into fall and winter
She sniffs back her illness
(Suck it up, soldier!)
Quells the rising bile
And marches on
© 2008 Ankhesen Mie
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