Zombies Don’t Celebrate:
A Living Dead Holiday Poetry Anthology
By Rusty Fischer, Author of Zombies Don’t Cry
Copyright © 2010 by Rusty Fischer
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. All of the names, characters, places and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.
Front cover credit: Ivan Bliznetsov
Back cover credit: Scott Griessel - Creatista
Table of Contents
Zombies Don’t Date: A Living Dead Valentine’s Day Poem
Zombies Don’t Pinch: A Living Dead St. Patrick’s Day Poem
Zombies Don’t Hop: A Living Dead Easter Poem
Zombies Don’t BBQ: A Living Dead 4th of July Poem
Zombies Don’t Trick or Treat: A Living Dead Halloween Poem
Zombies Don’t Gobble: A Living Dead Thanksgiving Poem
Zombies Don’t Jingle: A Living Dead Christmas Poem
Zombies Don’t Pop: A Living Dead New Year’s Eve Poem
Zombies Don’t Date
The envelopes kept stacking
One after the other;
Including the six sent
By my dopey younger brother!
The cards they were shiny
The cards they were frilly;
But getting so many
Just made me feel... silly!
It was February 14th,
Yes, Valentine’s Day;
And as the cards piled up
They started to sway.
I tried to keep up
With those cards colored red;
But it’s hard to open envelopes
When your fingers are… dead.
I felt quite embarrassed
With my tower of riches;
Even if it did tick off
The resident class witches!
They griped and they grumbled
They lobbed their attacks;
But it was only because
Of their own piddly stacks!
It must have been hard
For those popular gals;
To suddenly find themselves
Without last year’s pen pals.
For while all the guys
Sent cards my way;
The popular girls
Were having a “no letter” day.
It seemed all the boys
Were writing my name;
On the front of those cards
In this Valentine’s game.
It felt quite unwelcome
This rush of attention;
I was scared Mrs. Melvin
Might give me detention!
The class was abuzz
As the party revved up;
I had so many cards
I could barely keep up.
There was one from O-Shea
And one from Hasheen;
The prettiest card
That I’d ever seen.
There was one from Billy
And two from Brad;
All three were so desperate
I felt kind of… sad.
Why can’t these boys see
That my heart no longer thrums?
That when it comes to love
Well, it’s like I’m all thumbs!
I smiled and I nodded
With each brand new card;
But playing so coy
Turned out to be hard!
I tossed my dead hair
And licked my dead lips;
I batted dead eyelashes
And swiveled dead hips.
It didn’t disgust them,
These hot, randy guys;
That there wasn’t a spark
Of life in my eyes.
I’d been telling them gently
Since I rose from the grave;
That for a zombie boy
My heart I must save.
It just wouldn’t do
To date a live guy;
And yet all these heartthrobs,
They just had to try.
I couldn’t quite get
Why they all liked me best;
When for 17 years
They couldn’t care less!
And the more I said “No,”
The more they did woo;
The more I ran away
The harder they did pursue!
I never quite tried
To lead those boys on;
And yet all over me
They continued to fawn.
It was hard to explain
This wicked attraction;
When in real life
I’d never gotten this much action!
It seems that to catch
Every hunk’s eye;
All I had to do
Was just go and… die!
Zombies Don’t Pinch
Please take my advice
This St. Patrick’s Day;
And pocket your fingers
Yes, put them away!
For zombies aren’t fond of
Their skin getting pinched;
Though to you it’s so easy
Though to you it’s a cinch.
You see they’re quite fragile
Those old living dead;
And while to us it’s a prank
Pinches fill them with… dread!
For while we feel a sting
Or a little enflamed;
To a zombie a pinch
Is no St. Pat’s game!
I learned not to do it
I found out the hard way;
When I pinched a real zombie
Last St. Patrick’s Day!
I thought it’d be funny
On this holiday scene;
And hey, after all
He wasn’t wearing… green!
He was new to our school
A lonely old thing;
Who knew St. Pat’s Day
Just wasn’t his… thing?
His name it was Edgar
Which didn’t help much;
He was quite fond of ice cubes
And brain, guts and such.
Though he dressed all in fashion
It was painfully clear;
That his presence was alarming
And filled us with fear.
But I had decided
To make him a friend;
Little did I know
My life was about to end!
I crept up behind him
A smile on my face;
And sat down beside him
Yes, right in his space!
He thought I was friendly
His smile it was sad;
And now I felt creepy
And terribly bad.
But it was the rule
And the sooner he learned;
Our St. Patrick’s custom
The less he’d get burned.
He smiled and asked my name
I said, “Mary Sue!”
And then went and added,
“I’m sorry for you!”
Before he could question
Before he’d ask why;
I pinched his left shoulder
And oh, did he cry!
A roar was more like it
A growl I do think;
Right before into my bicep
His teeth he did sink!!!
My flesh tore asunder
My blood it did spray;
As old Edgar nibbled
The morning away.
And when it was over
I felt rather… strange;
Already my body
Had started to change.
I felt quite a chill
Straight from the inside;
My heart wasn’t beating
It was clear that… I’d died!
“But
why did you do that?”
Of Edgar I wondered.
He said, “Never pinch me;
You totally blundered!”
I saw why he’d angered
When I pinched his skin;
Since where I had touched him
His skin was caved in.
It looked quite unsightly
And so to strike back;
Old Edgar he’d mounted
A zombie attack!
And now I was like him
All ragged and dead;
My friends they did diss me
And hung out instead.
My life as a zombie
Wasn’t so bad;
Though Living Dead Edgar
Was the one friend I had.
And somehow a year passed
With only brains to eat;
I thought I’d survived
Some momentous feat.
As St. Pat’s Day started
All over again;
I totally blanked
On what to do when…
Some poor mortal dumb-dumb
Saw that I wore no green;
And instead of turning
Got totally mean.
And pinched my right bicep
And tore it right off!
As Edgar looked worried
As Edgar did scoff.
But what did I care
Now that I was not living
If to some dumb mortal
A new life I was giving?
I bit all who pinched me
And turned them quite dead;
Until our school halls
Ran totally red.
And all who came near us
Yes all who did plot;
To creep up and pinch us
Soon started to… rot.
And so heed my warning
On this St. Pat’s Day;
If you see a zombie
Run the other way.
For zombies don’t like green
And don’t care an inch;
To suck on your marrow
If you dare to pinch!
Zombies Don’t Hop
I’d never been fond
Of that old Easter bunny;
Who seemed rather goofy
And all kinds of funny.
And coloring Easter eggs
On the big day;
Was never for me
If I’d had my way.
The chocolate was fine
Though it made me break out;
“I wish Easter was over,”
I wanted to shout.
But this year was different
I found it quite fun;
Though everyone else
Had started to run.
You see there were zombies
Re-alive in our town;
And while others were frightened
I didn’t feel down.
They were totally harmless
These living dead ghouls;
As the town ran around
Acting like fools.
They came from the graveyard
They came from the church;
They shuffled and muffled
As I watched them all lurch.
I stood at a distance
As they stumbled around;
Getting used to their bone legs
As they strode above ground.
As everyone screamed
I watched them approach;
I had quite the subject
I wanted to broach.
“Can
you guys remember?”
I asked the undead.
“What to do when it’s Easter
And
the eggs are all red?”
The zombies did scratch
Their wormy dead hair;
Until one young zombie
Stuck his hand in the air.
“I think that you hunt them,
These eggs you speak of,”
He said with a croaking
As I fell… in love.
He was totally dreamy
This undead hot guy;
Even though he was oozing
And had but one eye.
He started to follow
As I found my first egg;
And he limped up behind me
Favoring one leg.
His undead friends followed
As we scoured the ground;
The zombies did cluster
As the dead gathered round.
They seemed rather fond
Of this Easter tradition;
Despite their unpleasant
Dead body condition.
And the best thing about
Having zombies for Easter;
Was when the eggs all ran out
They couldn’t care leaster!
There were plenty of other things
To hunt on this day;
As body parts aplenty
Lay dead in the hay.
You see while they rotted
And started to smell;
Off their big gray-green bodies
Parts just naturally fell.
A nose to the left of me
An eyeball over here;
As into my basket
I placed someone’s… ear!
I found my first finger
Once the eggs were all gone;
As my hot zombie buddy
Stumbled along.
“That’s mine!” he said proudly
As I tried to make sure;
He held up his digits
I saw only four!!
“I’ll
give it right back,”
I promised him winking;
When a bargain I had in mind
When a trade I was thinking.
“But there is a catch,”
I said with a grin.
“To get this thumb back
My heart you must win!”
He warmed to the challenge
My chilly heartthrob;
As he puckered his lips
And a kiss tried to rob.
I must say I let him
As our lips finally met;
And it was quite dry
The opposite of wet.
His breath rather musty
His lips rather cold;
I’d never let a mortal boy
Be this kind of bold.
His name it was Chester
My zombie boyfriend;
The only guy who made me wish
Easter would never end!
He wanted to hunt more eggs
But I told him not to ask it;
For fear that all his body parts
Would wind up in… my basket!
Zombies Don’t BBQ
I never quite got
Why we chose to go there;
As soon as heat sizzled
The warm summer air.
I always thought picnics
Were best in the park;
And, come to think of it,
Not held in… the dark!
But he chose the graveyard
And he brought the punch;
And he called our dinner
A barbecue “lunch.”
It felt kind of creepy
This graveyard affair;
As fireworks rocked
The warm July air.
But his eyes were so dreamy
And his muscles so strong;
I thought to myself,
“Girl, what could go wrong?!?”
And so I ignored
The headstones so pale;
As the black cats stopped purring
And started to wail.
My boyfriend looked happy
As he leaned on a tomb;
Though I must have looked like
A Sister of Doom.
His backpack was full
Of the latest TNT;
With black cats and cherry bombs
As far as the eye could see.
“Just wait ‘til it’s midnight,”
He said with a grin;
“The minute the clock strikes
Our fun will begin!”
The night grew quite late
As the 4th of July;
Exploded above us
In the warm, hazy sky.
I sipped on a soda
And nibbled a chip;
As around my shoulders
His arm it did slip.
It felt oh so dreamy
His chilly embrace;
As his cold, hoary breath
Splashed across my face.
I nuzzled against him
His chest nice and firm;
And when he nuzzled my shoulder
I started to squirm.
But how could that happen
If he’s over there?
So who is that twirling
The tips of my… hair?!?
I jumped up with fright
And scrambled away;
To find my boy Johnny
Grinning away.
Behind me came shuffling
The gnashing of teeth;
As the dead became living
And sought some relief.
Their arms were outstretched
As they reached for my head;
They weren’t quite living
They weren’t quite dead.
Their faces were ghostly
With worms in their hair;
As their groaning and grating
Filled the night air.
“W-w-why are you smiling?”
I stammered with fright;
As the dead came to life
On this warm July night.
“Don’t worry,” said Johnny
As he held out his arm.
“They’re totally harmless;
No need for alarm.”
“Then why are they trying
To chew on my brain?”
He heard as I shouted
He heard me exclaim.
“It won’t hurt a second,”
My ex-boyfriend said.
“And then we’ll both be
The living dead!”
“But you’re not a zombie,”
I said with a frown.
“I’ve seen you eat cookies!
I’ve seen you get… down!”
He chuckled so dryly
It gave me a chill;
As the smell from the zombies
Made me quite ill.
My boyfriend just stood there
And wiped off his face;
And under white makeup
I saw his disgrace.
His skin was quite ashen
His face it was gray;
As from his cold hands
He washed his makeup away.
“I’ve been an imposter,”
He said, full of glee.
“These zombies you’re afraid of
They’re much more like… me.”
He lurched at me boldly
As I ran away;
Grabbing his backpack
As I made my big play.
Now it all made sense
Now it was clear;
Why my dead bloody boyfriend
Had first brought me here.
It wasn’t to make-out
It wasn’t to mack;
He’d almost set me up
For a zombie attack!!
The zombies were closing
How quickly they ran;
As I dodged past a grave stone
And bent to my plan.
The bottle rockets sizzled
At the end of my lighter;
As I fired at those zombies
And became quite a fighter.
They firecrackers boomed
The bottle rockets hissed;
And as their bodies caught fire
Man, were they pissed!!!
They burned just like timber
Those living undead;
As their hair turned to ashes
And their skin turned quite red.
My boyfriend did howl
As the rockets they blared;
His eyes were wide open
He looked more than scared.
“I thought that you loved me,”
He croaked his last breath;
As the cherry bomb in his mouth
Sent him straight back to death!
I strode from the graveyard
Alone and quite single;
As with the holiday crowds
I started to mingle.
They’d heard not a whizz
Or a snap or a boom;
As I wiped out the zombies
And saved them from doom!
And all through the fireworks
I “ooohed” and I “aaahed”;
To think that my boyfriend
Had been such a… fraud.
And as I walked home
From that long, fateful night;
I shook with much fury
I trembled with fright.
I just couldn’t get it
No, nothing could calm me;
To think that I’d dated
A living dead... zombie!
Zombies Don’t Trick or Treat
The zombies were out
For a fun, festive night;
They were goblins and ghouls
And witches in sight.
Over there was a demon
His legs warm as toast;
Down that street’s a pumpkin
Down that one’s a ghost.
No, it wasn’t Armageddon
Or a monster’s pot luck;
It was the one mortal night
That didn’t quite… suck!
That’s right, little ghosties
It was… Halloween;
The creepiest, crawliest
Living dead scene!
Poor Chester was frightened
He was new to this town;
And ever since dying
Poor Chester’d been down.
He wasn’t quite used
To being undead;
If he had his way
He’d be living… instead.
His friends liked being zombies
They found it quite cool;
But all Chester felt
Was like one giant fool!
He hated his hairdo
He hated his skin;
He hated the fact
That he could no longer grin.
His legs they were stiff
His arms were quite chilly;
And stumbling around
Just made Chester feel… silly.
Tonight might be different
Poor Chester agreed;
As he watched other kids
Look as foolish as he.
For each one looked goofy
For each one looked grim;
For each one looked not
Quite much better than… him!
“But where are they going?”
He asked of a bud;
Who looked at him like
He had the IQ of a spud.
“They’re all trick or treating,”
Was the answer he gave;
“Or have you forgotten,
Since you rose from the grave?”
“I seem to recall,”
Little Chester did say;
“Of begging for candy
On Halloween day.”
“Let’s give it a try,”
His buddy made it sound like a cinch;
“Chocolate’s not as good as brains
But it’ll do in a pinch.”
Chester shrugged
And followed his friend;
As they shuffled and groaned
Up the long driveway’s end.
The lawn was festooned
With orange and black;
The setting quite ripe
For a zombie attack!
The young man who stood
At his cozy front door;
Thought the zombies on his porch
Wore costumes; nothing more.
He smiled,
They shuffled;
He sniffed
And he snuffled.
“I quite love your costumes,”
He said with a smile.
“But your breath I smelled coming
For more than a mile!”
When the man tried to offer
A bowl full of candy;
All Chester could smell
Was his brain oh-so-dandy.
He reached for the bowl
But dropped it instead;
And as the man bent to catch it
Clamped onto his head.
“But why?” asked the man
Squealing in pain;
“Why bother with candy,” Chester said
“When my treat is… your brain!”
Zombies Don’t Gobble
The table was set
The candles aglow;
When at the front door
Three zombies did show.
“Who could that be knocking?”
Poor Mother did pout.
“Probably Mindy’s boyfriend,”
My Father did shout.
“I’ll see who it is,”
I said to them all.
As I skittered and shimmied
To see who did call.
The door it did open
My heart it did shudder;
My legs felt just like
A bowl of whipped butter.
“Brains!” said one zombie
“Your Brains!” said another;
“It’s turkey or nothing,”
Blared my big, nosy mother.
I held my breath tight
As they studied my skull;
Then each rolled an eye
To find it… quite dull.
I felt almost rejected
As they brushed me aside;
And toward our Thanksgiving table
Each zombie did stride.
The zombies they shuffled
Straight up to the bird;
They left quite a smell
Like a three-week old turd!
They reached out their hands
To tear off a leg;
Mom said, “Sit down you three;
And don’t make me beg!”
I figured they’d tear her
One limb from another;
But those zombies seemed –
Quite scared of… my mother!
In no time they listened
In no time they sat;
And wore napkins in their collars
In two seconds flat!
My family sat watching
The zombies devour;
A 20-pound turkey
In less than an hour.
They gnawed on the wishbone
And guzzled down gravy;
Their behavior was almost
Well… downright… behave-y!
Mom smiled and cheered
As they refilled each plate;
It didn’t seem to bother her
That none of us ate.
And when there was nothing
To swallow or chew;
The zombies looked happy
Or at least far less… eeeewwwww!
My family sat frozen
Quite glued to our seats;
Until Zombie One burped
And sputtered, “Good eats!”
They rose without speaking
As we covered our brains;
They turned and shuffled out
Leaving only grease stains.
I stood at the door
To see where they’d gone;
And watched three stuffed zombies
Shuffle down our front lawn.
“It sure looks to me,”
I said with a tweet.
“Like they’re going away;
Like they’re crossing the street!”
“Now that they’re gone,”
Mom said with a grin.
“Our real Thanksgiving dinner
Can finally begin!”
Dad helped clear the table
Sis set it again;
As I asked Mom about
Her backup turkey plan.
“Why everyone knows,”
She grinned from ear to ear;
“To cook a second Thanksgiving dinner
When zombies are near!”
Zombies Don’t Jingle
We caroled on Elm Street
We caroled on Oak;
Yes, I’d have to say
We were caroling folk!
We sang ‘til our voices
Were scratchy and sore;
Then swallowed a cough drop
And sang 10 songs more!
The snow felt so chilly
On our bright, singing faces;
As we shuffled around
In brightly lit spaces.
The houses were decked out
So merry and gay;
As we caroled and sang
All night and all day.
Our noses were frosty
As we rounded Pine Street;
Struggling to stand
On our achy, sore feet.
“One more then we’re finished,”
Pastor Carol did boast.
“Then it’s back to the rec hall
Where it’s warm as fresh toast!”
We started to sing
That old Silent Night;
When the door burst wide open
And gave us a fright!
Three zombies came stumbling
Out the Harrington’s door;
Dripping our neighbor’s blood
All over the floor.
Those zombies they saw us
And gave quite a start;
And the smell that came off them
Was worse than… a fart!
It reeked quite of death
Of rot and decay;
Not things one should smell
On a bright Christmas Day!
Their teeth were quite yellow
Their eyes were pure red;
And the gray of their skin
Made it clear they were… undead.
I wanted to bolt
I wanted to run;
But the zombies were hungry
For some holiday fun.
I turned to find seven
Shuffling up to my back;
And six more stumbled over
To wage their attack.
Our church group was surrounded
Our future quite grim;
Until I croaked out a suggestion
To good Pastor Jim.
“The end is quite certain,”
I said with a frown;
“But I’d like one more carol
Before we go down!”
The zombies were inching
Getting ready for a fight;
When our voices sang steady
Of that first… Silent Night.
We sang to the rooftops
We sang to the rafter;
Not caring a whit
For what might happen… after.
I waited each minute
For a crunch or a bite;
For the gnawing to start
On this non-Silent night.
But the zombies stood still
And drooled on their feet;
As our singing and caroling
To them was... quite sweet.
The song it did end
And the zombies all clapped;
Sue Briggs tried to run –
In no time she was trapped.
Before we could sing
Before we could try;
They ripped her to pieces
And sucked her bones dry.
We all stood there trembling
As they wallowed in gore;
Until I haltingly suggested
That we best sing… one more!
With each Christmas carol
The zombies they sighed;
But each time we stopped
The next caroler died!
We sang and we sang
That long Christmas day;
Until the last zombie
Just… drifted away.
“We still have three songs left,”
The last caroler said.
Then I looked all around
To find my friends… dead.
The street was quite empty
The town deadly still;
I stepped on a finger
It gave me a chill!
I wandered for hours
Until it was night;
And found no survivors
Nope, not one in sight.
On the far edge of town
I heard quite a grumbling;
Like the groaning and retching
Of a hundred stomachs rumbling.
I still had my elf cap
Fixed tight to my head;
As I approached the zombie gathering
With fear and with dread.
They stood there and waited
Gore stuck in their teeth;
As I crept up toward them
As neat as a thief.
I stood there before them
And sang Oh, Christmas Tree;
Though each inch of my body
Wanted to flee.
They smiled and shuffled
They burped and passed gas;
But no mattered how hard I tried
They would not let me pass.
I settled in and gave them
The show of the year;
Grinning and smiling
In spite of my fear.
Their bellies were hungry
But the carols were soothing;
Even if my neighbors’ bones
They were chomping and toothing.
I wasn’t afraid
Oh no sir, not me;
I sang without falter
I sang loud… with glee.
I knew I’d be safe
From this living dead throng;
At least until I came
To the very last song…
Zombies Don’t Pop
I’d never liked parties
At the end of the year;
Since it meant back-to-school time
Was drawing more near.
But this year was different
As the clock did ding-dong;
And out of the graveyard
Bodies soon were long gone.
They roved and they wandered
As midnight drew near;
It was clear they were shuffling
Why, right over… here!
The dead had arisen
From their burial plots;
I’d say there were dozens
I’d say there were lots!
Their movements were jerky
Their feet they did scrape;
But the street was too crowded
To make my escape.
Our party was outside
As the confetti flew;
And the revelers shouted
As the party it grew.
The whole street was blotto’d
Quite high off of champagne;
As the zombies grew closer
Inflicting their pain.
They chomped on the grown-ups
And then every kid;
It wouldn’t be nice
To describe what they did!
But maybe I’ll try
To give you a taste;
Of what happens when
Some zombies laid waste.
They cracked open noggins
And scooped the brains up;
And then on their torsos
They started to sup!
They chomped on their shin bones
And nibbled their toes;
As blood spewed all over
Like H20 from a hose.
The street grew quite bloody
Yes, it was soon red;
As all of my neighbors
Grew terribly dead.
And there I stood trembling
As the zombies approached;
Yes on our street party
The dead did encroach.
I could find no weapon
To fight the horde off;
As I started to cry,
To sputter and cough.
And as 20 zombies
Reached in for a bite;
I grabbed for the first thing
That came into sight.
The cork popped right open
And knocked three dead down;
As the rest of them stood there
And started to frown.
I looked to my left
And then to my right;
Thank God they’d attacked
On New Year’s Eve night!
My back to the bar
I’d stumbled upon;
A case of champagne
That wasn’t quite gone.
I handed the bottle
To the first zombie in line;
She tipped it into her mouth
And thought it… quite fine!
She sucked and she swallowed
The bubbly all down;
It fizzled and fuzzled
All over her gown.
The rest gathered round
Waiting their turn;
For those quite undead
How quickly they learn!
I popped all the bottles
And gave them all out;
As the zombies grew drunker
And started to shout.
They were lively and merry
Those living dead ghouls;
And in no time at all
Were acting like fools.
I left them all there
Quite torn up and twisted;
As I made my escape
Why, all of them missed it!
So I no longer hate
That old New Year’s Eve;
Since from a zombie attack
It allowed me to leave.
And I do have one lesson
I’d like to impart;
As your next cocktail party
Is about to start:
To watch a mean zombie
Start seeing doubly;
Skip brains for a change
And give him… some bubbly!
About the Author:
Rusty Fischer
Rusty Fischer is a professional freelance writer who lives in sunny Florida with his beautiful wife, Martha. They enjoy riding bikes, long, leisurely walks on the beach, romantic dinners and zombie movies; lots and lots of zombie movies! (Well, Rusty does, anyway!)
Rusty’s new book, Zombies Don’t Cry, will be available from Medallion Press in May of 2011. In the meantime, visit www.medallionpress.com/blurbs/zombie_cry.html for updates and blurbs as the publication date nears.