Rhapsody on a Zombie Night [Happy Birthday, Whore]Submitted by Orgasmatron at 2006-11-16 15:28:32 EST
Rating: 1.92 on 39 ratings (39 reviews) (Review this item) (V)
The undead shuffle across the street
Held in hellish human hunger
Murmuring wordless curses and chants,
Little twisted songs from their memories,
And all is clear by the moon
As below the silent, celestial lamp
She settles on pavement and iron bars
Over smoke-ribboned rooftops,
Between the pulse and through the stink
Of midnight mayhem shaking stars
Through her hair as a stone breaking water.
Half past one,
The sword-edge sputtered,
The sword-edge muttered,
The sword-edge said, "Behold the blood
Of man whose soul has turned to ash and iron
And smiles with brimstone on his breath.
See how his head is split in half
Now become a bowl for spit and chalk
For crones, see how it spills black
And broken - death to death."
The memory throws up high and dry
A world of forgotten things:
Washed out afternoons upon a breaking tide
Pictures moving on walls, illusions
Of safety in an electric world,
Dry bones cackling from sand
But assuredly expired,
Wood-carried water from a summer well,
Spiders turning strong corners into fractured harps
Music curling through the heart and bedframe.
Half past two,
The shotgun said,
"Witness the birdless sky showering the walking dead
Extending an empty hand
To bless them with stale air and rancor."
As the rotting hand of a changeless child
Clawed the eyes and mouth of an old man screaming in the street.
She could see nothing within the child's eye.
She has seen them in the streets,
Eyes queer as funhouse mirrors and
Human as afternoon tea by the garden,
The boy's face caved and regurgitated,
Eyes afire as phoenixes from the shells she gave him.
Half past three,
The blade sputtered,
The gun muttered in the dark,
The sword hummed:
"Behold what you have become,
De mortuis nil nisi bonum,
Steam rising from the young frost,
Broken teeth and halved brains on your boots.
In the moonlight you forget memory
But beams return breaking to prove you false,
Fragile as paper children in a line
Wicked as shears and fratricide,
You will abide
As serpents through a winter battery
Reptile brain, survival, mother, father, new."
The reminiscence stays
Of shaken stars and breaking waves
And unlocked doors,
Smells of juniper and jasmine calling,
And cologne from beyond a slatted door,
And distractions on telephones
And gunfire on the television.
The sword said,
Here is the hour you'll do no more.
A live, unbroken family
With guards and singing sirens in the night.
Keep yourself but keep the blood on the blade,
Lay your head to sleep, dream, prepare for life."
The slow, unconscious turning of the knife.
ok so it's not what ts eliot had in mind - sue me, it's someone's birthday.JPG