ZombieA Poem by David Lewis PagetI’d never believed in
the living dead In the movies of the
time, Though the wife curled
up in a foetal ball At zombies, covered in
slime, I said, ‘Well, why do
you watch it then If it’s going to freak
you out?’ But she’d lie in bed in
a constant dread And she’d sometimes
scream, and shout.’ She’d say, ‘Do you think
they could come back, Come clawing out of the
ground, Creeping up from the
graveyard to Surround us, here in the
town?’ ‘I hardly think it
likely,’ I would say, ‘Because they’re dead!’ But that was before a
knock on the door And standing there was
Fred. I was sitting reading
the paper when I heard Miranda scream, I found her there at the
open door With a nightmare, not a
dream. This guy was standing,
dripping with mud And grass shoots in his
hair, He said, ‘I’ve come for
Miranda, And I’m not prepared to
share!’ I looked at her in
confusion, said ‘Just what’s this all
about?’ Miranda wasn’t coherent,
she Just stood with an open
mouth. He said, ‘I’m Miranda’s
husband And I’ve come, just like
I said.’ Miranda uttered a funny
croak, And said, ‘You can’t,
you’re dead!’ I knew that she’d buried
a husband Just before we two had
met, But that had been seven
years before, It’s not like you’d
forget. But there he was in the
flesh, although The flesh was rather
green, His hair was matted and
tangled, And I wondered, where
had he been? We sat him down in the
kitchen and She made him a cup of
tea, While I went out in the
car, and drove Around to the cemetery. His grave was all in a
shambles with The headstone at a lean, A gaping hole to the
coffin, then I knew that he was
unclean! ‘We’ve got us a real
zombie,’ was The first thought in my
head, What do you do with your
partner’s ex When your partner’s ex
is dead? When I got back they
were having a chat While she combed the mud
from his hair, Just like a good little
zombie’s wife, While I could just stand
and stare. I made a call to the
bishop, who Said it was plain to
see, If he, like Lazarus, had
come back Our marriage was bigamy! I asked Miranda, ‘Who do
you want Your ex, or me, or what?’ She said she couldn’t
make up her mind, He’d been pretty good in
the cot! I thought, ‘That’s it!’
and I got my gun And I put a hole in his
head, The Sheriff came and he
told the wife, ‘You can’t kill a dead
man dead!’ So we buried him back in
the same old grave To save the expense of a
new, But Miranda went back to
her mother’s then, Said, ‘I’m not living
with you!’ David Lewis Paget © 2013 David Lewis PagetFeatured Review
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