ENTRY 54
INTRODUCTION TO THE POETRY OF ZOMBIES
INTRODUCTION TO THE POETRY OF ZOMBIES
(Bolivia, North Carolina)
Allow me to introduce myself again! I am Samuel Elliot Matthews. My son’s name is Marcus. We live, along with a small community of survivors, behind barbed wire walls. We venture outside the gates and other fencing only occasionally. Death, and horror, awaits all who freely walk the out lands. They are hidden out there, waiting for us to make a mistake, so that they can pounce upon us, kill us and then eat us. There’s no cat and mouse activities here… this is hunter hunting prey hunting prey hunting hunter!
These are the diary entry recountings of some of my days, and adventures, in poetry forms. If you’re reading this, my one piece of advice to you is… “Don’t repeat the mistakes I’ve made.”
What the Federal government called "The Fog of the Rebirth of Death" arose up from suddenly activated Craters of the Moon volcano park in mid-summer, in Idaho, 10 years ago. The inky black mist bellowed up from several of the Lava Tube Caves like oily exhaust from a broken down car. By the time Federal Government mandated Core of Engineers plugged the caves, two months later, with tons of liquid concrete… the sky above half of the Northern Hemisphere was darkened with the substance.
As the rains came, washing the horror-making stuff down into the soil… the dead began to arise first in America, then around the world, to hunt down and eat anything mammalian. The living are seemingly unaffected… but with death, humans rise up to kill the living!
Half of the worlds population must be dead and re-killed by the living, by now. We lost scientists, politicians, teachers, doctors, engineers, pilots… and many more people that helps to run a society. We are getting by, but the zombie attackers continue to come in waves and survival becomes more difficult every day. But, we are survivors.
Again, these are my stories, put to poems… and I hope what I write will eventually help others to survive their part of the zombie madness.
These are the diary entry recountings of some of my days, and adventures, in poetry forms. If you’re reading this, my one piece of advice to you is… “Don’t repeat the mistakes I’ve made.”
***
What the Federal government called "The Fog of the Rebirth of Death" arose up from suddenly activated Craters of the Moon volcano park in mid-summer, in Idaho, 10 years ago. The inky black mist bellowed up from several of the Lava Tube Caves like oily exhaust from a broken down car. By the time Federal Government mandated Core of Engineers plugged the caves, two months later, with tons of liquid concrete… the sky above half of the Northern Hemisphere was darkened with the substance.
As the rains came, washing the horror-making stuff down into the soil… the dead began to arise first in America, then around the world, to hunt down and eat anything mammalian. The living are seemingly unaffected… but with death, humans rise up to kill the living!
Half of the worlds population must be dead and re-killed by the living, by now. We lost scientists, politicians, teachers, doctors, engineers, pilots… and many more people that helps to run a society. We are getting by, but the zombie attackers continue to come in waves and survival becomes more difficult every day. But, we are survivors.
Again, these are my stories, put to poems… and I hope what I write will eventually help others to survive their part of the zombie madness.
SEM
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