All along zombie street
Living only to be
Hollow minds peer through hollow eyes
Desperately hoping to see
Hearts and minds stretch out hesitantly
Gently caressing the surreal
Then snatching their hands back excitedly
Only to reveal the next meal

Mind’s dictatorship has been overthrown
Interring it to a rudimentary role
Leaving a body worn in anarchy
Incapable of central control
Life’s archaic rigid template
Invalidated by the new world compound
Leaves only the alternative
Of a child’s playground

Behind closed doors in sterile ammonia drenched caverns
They sit siphoning time and vacuuming space
Fleeting memories of dancing skeletons
Of skins that they can no longer trace
Meanwhile the mantra for counting beads
Destroys the multitude of accumulated sin
And hibernating the nothing else
Wears the hours thin

Moving through the synthetic time and space
Of an environmental cocoon
Life is channelled by the fabricated future
Posted on the starving moon
Distracted by party cakes, balloons and song
As well as numbers devoid of sequence
They are sucked ever further along
Their perpetuating tunnels of repentance

In deciding between essential and precious
Life’s meaning has no place
Yet for yesterday’s memories and the needs of today
There remains adequate space
What for, four dimensional things
When three will more than do
Life’s regime of self control remains
Maintaining every pointless taboo

Three times a day the silent hollow corridors distend
To bowel movements distilled from remnant palates
Responding to the intensifying growling emptiness
Formed from stools of squirming maggots
Descending upon identically prepared platters
Of gelatinous brains and pulverised goo
To be sucked and nibbled
While inadvertently passing on the latest flu

Multitudes of Android attachments
Augmenting malfunctioning parts
Intertwined with living tissue
Or simply enhancements to look smart
With modern gadget gizmos
Of wheelchairs, pacemakers and artificial limbs
These cyborgs of intricately prefabricated tin
Stare quiescently through bifocal rims

Inebriated by shot glasses full of coloured peas
Gambling on gourd filled maracas to dissuade
The desperate hope of catheterising catharsis
Of a yet another permanent malaise
Desperately offset minds attempt at cauterising pain
Enduring many body corroding ailments
Qualifying with immaculate credentials
To existence’s uncontrollable curtailments

The slow gaited age old dance
Of the inevitable chequerboard shuffle
Displacing entrenched pieces from the board
Outmanoeuvring the opponents kerfuffle
This steady endless trickle
The sieve of persistently emptying rooms
Paving the way to their chosen of kingdo(o)m
Awaiting to anoint their prepared gilded tombs

Espousing the same regurgitated memories
Many boredom times over
The what ifs and the what if nots
In dubious chronological order
Pass over silently
Thoughts devour the brain and repeat conceit
The zombies have it all
Resilient and cheap

To the island with the generic name
Hope to faith fantasize
The evolution to static calm
Conceived as an unknown paradise
Completing the cycle of life
Future left to kin
Insects ready to dine
On the disposed exoskeleton skin

Heedless of any plan
The future will always have it’s way
Coming in it’s own good time
Regardless of how much they pray
Waiting for the pardon that never comes
Long incapable of any crime
Saints absolved of all sin
Continue to wait out their time