Sunday, August 30, 2009


In a burst of Halloween inspiration, here's a fresh poetry schmoetry

The dead feel alive here
Dancing off the dust,
Coffee and finger sandwiches,
Pie with stale crust

Oh the stories they tell,
From the days before the grave
Down at the zombie café

Reggie was a trader
Layla was his squeeze
Before the great depression
Made him take the leap

Walter stormed the beach
During the D-Day push
Now he’s eating the special
Brains with sour mush

Dug out of their graves
They have so much to say
Down at the Zombie Café

They all felt like the first time
Should have been the second time around
So they made a group decision
To claw their way out of the ground

Hanging out together
Jawing, shooting the breeze
Telling how it used to be
Back when folks still said “please”

Don’t disrespect them, now
They laid the path for you
Thank them and move on
Is exactly what you should do

For they don’t suffer fools
Or what they have to say
Down at the zombie cafe

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