By Nathan Acord

I scare away the horde with shotgun shells

and try to write a poem about a zombie

But don’t know where to start

My mind has been so empty and bare for weeks

I start to realize perhaps

My thoughts have become a meal to hungry beasts

Craving only my flesh

Their tripping and trapping would wake a troll from sleep

With sounds of slow demise

Their groans can cause my blood to freeze so quick

I succumb to the final feast

Of beasts lurking in fissures and cracks to do

Nothing except consume

Maybe I’ll write a poem about some brains