There’s too much undead in the room.
My boomstick no longer goes boom.
My shirt now has a stain
that just might be my brain.
There’s one more undead in the room.


Hipster zombies are starting to grieve
for their scene that they tout on red sleeves.
Now the scenes’ also dead,
but it’s moaned (meaning said)
that there’s no way that they can just leave.

Taste like chicken

© 2013 James Conant

James Conant is a Cambridge artist who has recently added photography to his skills, which include clay sculpture, pen and ink, montages, and pencil art. He is always available for work and collaboration.

Chad Parenteau is a contributing editor to Oddball Magazine. His poetry collection Patron Emeritus is available through FootHills Publishing.

Monday’s Zombie Poem

Tuesday’s Zombie Poems