More Poems (Progress)

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When Asked About a Zombie Apocalypse

 

When asked about a zombie

 apocalypse

 

I say                    jokingly

            I’d wait

            in the safety               

of my basement           I’d stay

in the dark

 

the glow of an LED   

           

illuminating the room

 red

 

blinking           my sight strained

waiting

 

for some correspondence

            to relay

some form of communication

 

odor permeating

 

hard to say

who’s living                who’s dead

 

truth be told

 

if                      the apocalypse

never came

 

I’d die             the same way
                even at
                        old age
fifty years to the day

taking to this cold earth
           their eyes       embrace
                       meticulously engraved

 

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Marian Semic

I was there         

at sixteen

feral strays

somehow         

always found their way  up those stairs

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strange             of all those that came

she called me hers                     I recall

 

fondly

the way

she taught me of people

 

      paint

 

showing me to outline    shadows

            how to see                                   shades

and carve out                            shapes

 

blues                            reds               

  white bright              aqua green

 

these washes                   stains

overlap to create images           ourselves composed

from vibrant hues

 

inside                the people’s gallery

above ground

we stayed up late                      watching                             

the scene emerge                      slowly

others came to see and

there we were               till late

            and there         

forever

in our paint

remained