Baby, Let’s Survive the Apocalypse – An epic love poem about the zombie apocalypse

Baby, Let’s Survive the Apocalypse
An epic love poem about the zombie apocalypse

by Jim L. Cunningham

 

When the apocalypse comes,
let’s you and me stay alive.
When the others have perished
our fun time will arrive.

We’ll play in the streets
living life with no rules,
dancing and frolicking
like a couple of fools.

No more getting up early,
going to jobs, paying rent.
It’ll be pajamas all day;
we’ll be dressed for dissent.

The malls will await us.
We’ll try on all the clothes,
take whatever we want
with no one to oppose.

And laugh like little kids
oh, happy shoppers we’ll be.
A big floppy hat for you,
a leather jacket for me.

We’ll jump on the beds
and arrange mannequins obscene
and won’t worry one bit
for we’ll never be seen.

We’ll never do the dishes
but just throw them away.
Out the windows they’ll go
for empty shops still purvey.

We’ll have dinner at the grocery,
never run out of grub,
sit cross-legged on the counter
like our own breakfast club.

We’ll collect lots of food stuffs
and fill up our backpacks.
We’ll never go hungry
or kill rats to have snacks.

Hording bottled water
canned goods and bread
as if life were a picnic
with a glorious spread.

Every luxury we’ll have.
You’ll drink pricey wine.
I’ll eat the finest beef jerky.
It’ll be simply divine.

It’ll be like a scavenger hunt.
We’ll find a way to make it fun
and travel from place to place
like fugitives on the run.

We’ll get great big guns
and wear swords on our backs,
steal an expensive sports car
and hit the road like Mad Max.

I’ll start a journal
to keep track and mark the news.
The empty streets will be my inspiration
and you will be my muse.

Baby, if we survive the apocalypse,
we’ll look under people’s beds
we’ll even snoop in their sock drawers
to try to get into their heads.

To try to learn the lesson of why
when humanity slid
and to make sense of it all –
why things went as they did.

We will sit and reflect
as we watch the sunset
all the while failing to detect
what always comes this time of day
at twilight beset
by the things that come.
Lost in our thoughts
we don’t notice the screaming
in the distance because of the walkers.
The streets are teeming.
Watching the sun setting,
just barely peaking beneath the clouds
of smoke from the fires burning far off.
They hide from the heat during the day,
and they don’t like the light
lest they hasten their decay.
The cloudy skies have brought them sooner.
They’re early tonight.

Jesus, they’re coming.

Run! Oh, god, run. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. We stayed out too long. I didn’t notice. Too much time dwelling on the past and not enough on our future. Our immediate future. Damn! I won’t let them get you. I won’t. It’s time to go. Running. Jumping. Shushing. Hiding. Gasping. Moving again. Inside, outside. This way and that. Close enough to smell their rancid breath. Their putrid, skank, dank, breath on our necks. Lumbering. Sliding bits of flesh dropping. Dripping. Groaning, moaning. Approaching, narrowing the gap. We must put space between their dark dirty nails and our backs. At all costs, we must get away. The thoughts of what could happen. What we could be. The indignity. We won’t become. Can’t be. They’re an awful race. They keep pace with us. Fear. Disgust. Into that alley. Shut the door. Slide the desk. Hurry and get some nails. You do that side. I’ll do this side. There. I think we got it. That’s it. We did it. Safe.

We made it again.
Perhaps they’ll catch us one day.
The predators will win one
and they will have their prey.

The barricade will hold.
They won’t get us this time.
We’re fine.

It’s comfy and warm and mostly quiet,
save for the thud-thudding,
from outside we’re secure
and relief comes flooding.

We try to ignore them.
They’re still out there plotting.
Rotting.

Lumbering groaning things drone
and we tune out the din.
Outside the scratching things gather,
in here we draw close and settle in.

So now we hunker down.
In for the night.
Hold tight.

We always have a way
of weathering any storm.
As a team we’re forever able
to be secure, hopeful and warm.

An unsettling sleep for the night.
Locked in a tiny room.
A womb.

Zombies be damned.
Fear, I now rebuff
I don’t need the weapons.
Our love is enough.

I have everything I need.
In your arms, I’m armed.
Unharmed.

Baby, when we survive the apocalypse
the dead walk the earth and the living are few,
it’ll be the end of the world,
and I’ll be happy if I’m with you.

From now on we’ll never let them sneak up on us
and we’ll be more careful in the twilight.
Goodnight.

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