They huddle together, by the beaches, the thickets,
the sand dunes, the pebblesÍ where covered in filth.
The dawn’s earlier light comes to soon, we where seen,
they looked the night and the warm waters where
the fish were lapping at there bower-like legs
then doing figure-eights across them: back, forth.
Before this, mom said, on the beaches,
people would play with there kids.
Eat burgers, laugh for no reason
then sing, cry, and do it again.
They had sell things. All things
even if you had no need.
They came out of the thickets carrying, bows, arrows,
spears, javelins, axes and makeshift swords.
They came with slaughter minds ad rumbling arms,
feet like marching ant colons with anger.
They killed the zombies with the look in there faces
of zombies: blank eyes and horrid expressions.
I looked on from the sea wall perch with the same
blank eyes, I should have gone to the beach and said good bye.