Zombies come in all shapes.
Some wear suits and ride elevators to glassy rooms
in ridiculous buildings—and a hundred
dreams vanish into ledgers.
Some wear lab coats and safety glasses, shaking
down blossoms and bosons for their lunch money and the arousal of power.
Others wear smug expressions and look you in the
eye from the back cover of books that say there is poetry in the world—but your
creation isn’t it.
It’s okay. Even spooky stories end, then it’s snack
time and finger painting—
for
everyone!
Until then we can stop being so serious all the
time.
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