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Sunday, December 25, 2011

Twas the night before christmas...with Zombies

Twas the night before Christmas….with zombies
A disturbing holiday poem by J. R. Wagner

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Many creatures were stirring, eating two dogs and a mouse
The stockings lay strewn and bloodied by the fire
A struggle had taken place, apparently dire

The children had woken to the screams by their beds
One single thought had entered their heads
When Mama came limping and moaning down the hall
And Papa crawled toward them having no legs at all

Out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
Screams and smoke and gunfire did shatter
The window as Timmy ducked avoiding the glass
While Gina reached for her .9 allowing no dead to pass

The moon on the blood strewn across the white snow
Gave an ominous look to the situation below
When a sound cut through the eerily silent night
The thwack, thwack, thwack of chopper blades joining the fight

It landed out front raising snow like a storm
Timmy and Gina  an to the window to shout, to warn
One-by-one men ducked out beneath the deadly blades
M1’s tightly gripped as they looked through the haze

A few shots fired, several men down
the area called ‘clear’ then his foot touched the ground
The children both smiled as he lifted his hat to his head
Yes, you guessed it, Rick Grimes from The Walking Dead

As dry entrails took flight like birds fleeing from prey
The presence of Rick let the children know this would be a special day
Rather than through the front door, Grimes jumped to the roof
His .357 reporting as walkers fell with an ooph

Then, with a whoosh followed by a deafening blast
They knew Shane Walsh and his RPG had made it at last
Debris dropped down what remained of the flu
Followed by smashing and bashing from you know who

Snakeskin boots were the first to drop in
Followed by county issued pants, shirt and his gold star pin
A bundle of guns he had flung on his back
He looked like a dystopian peddler opening his pack

His eyes, dark and weary, his jaw set tight
His cheeks were striated always ready for a fight
His perfect white teeth smiled up at the kids
Unable to hide the guilt for the things that he did

He cocked his hat back revealing more of his face
Blood splatter and gore were all over the place
The children relaxed having seen it before
Grimes was a legend, a gift to help settle the score

The hilt of a dirk he held tight in his teeth
And the dust cloud from his entrance circled his head like a wreath
He was thin as a man, ever they had seen
Food can be scarce unless one is keen

He was formal and terse as he moved, shoulders set
Not believing the children already dispatched the threat
A wink of an eye and a twist of his head
Told the kids not all the walkers were dead

He spoke not a word but went right to his work
Removing the shotgun and ArmaLite AR-18 with a jerk
Cautiously stepping into sister Jennie’s small room
Then gunfire and screaming and boom, boom, boom

Rick stepped slowly back out from the fight
Clutching his side with one hand the .357 in the right
His face was pale, his eyes cold and distant
The problem, the kids knew exactly in an instant

Timmy and Gina, holding her .9
Made their way to the chopper –double time
Looking back at dust-off toward the house where Rick lay
He’d been bitten, you see, and needed to stay.

As the chopper lifted and rose past the trees
A bright star reminded the passengers, it’s Christmas eve
Merry Christmas, said Shane gripping the mesh
The kids gave an odd smile then feasted on his flesh

To my Walking Dead buddy: Iris. Merry Christmas,

Love always,

Check out my website! www.TheNeverChronicles.com

1 comment:

  1. That's just...wrong...

    (instead of simply .9, Glock 9 would work)