Virulent progression,
Procession to rot;
Hungry and undead
Killing what’s not (more…)

Grandmother says
they used to bury them.
Whole gardens of them, marked with stones,
pretty trees trimmed into shapes
and little pots for flowers. (more…)

Against a barricade of damp sand
in sacks, we’ve been waiting,
ears tuned to the shuffle of soles. (more…)

Trapped
I am alive inside
This Hell on earth
For how much longer I do not know (more…)

They stagger, trip, curse in the furrows of the brown,
harvested field.
So old that their bodies rattle
like twigs and dried seeds, they steal their sight
from the gibbous moon, eat stalks and shucks
and chaff and clods of manure. (more…)

Hungry is the empty flesh,
Ravenous as the Angel Death;
So rot the pestilence

Grey tissue, vacant eyes:
Soulless angst rages
In this murder meat device

Gnawing, biting teeth
That kill and eat;
Carrion screams forever bleed.