Bookshelf Battle

A Collaborative Effort Between Bookshelf Q. Battler and Search Engine Optimized Poet

Dedicated to anyone who has ever been through the sad experience of seeing their bae turned into a damn zombie.  One day we’ll find that zombie-ism cure.

Hot Zombie Chick

Hot zombie chick!  Whoa, hot zombie chick!

How I once wished you’d love me for my brain.

Oh, but not like this, dear hot zombie chick.

How can I even explain?

Hot zombie chick! Whoa, hot zombie chick!

Please oh won’t you please go away?

You never wanted to date me when you were alive.

Why should I let you eat me now that you are in a state of decay?

Hot zombie chick. Whoa, hot zombie chick!

Please wont’t you please stop nibbling my ear!

Hot zombie chick. Whoa, hot zombie chick!

Please. You fill me with fear!

Hot zombie chick, come on, I’m no longer feeling’ ya.

Besides if we did it, I’m sure it would be necrophilia.

How Zombie chick!  Whoa, hot zombie chick!

Former blonde goddess who laughed in my general direction.

Once the cause of so many erections,

Now you want to leave me dead for the medical examiner’s inspection but…

No!  No hot zombie chick!  You can’t have my heart and eat it too.

My spleen is mine and I’m keeping my kidneys, so shoo!

Did your parts just fall off?  What the heck are these?

Hot zombie chick, please, I don’t want to shoot you.

And yes, it will be so hard for me to boot you,

In the opposite direction but please, I say this with a frown,

For where you need to go, is to the next town.

We need to see other people, it is so sad for me to explain,

That the mature thing for you to do here would be to eat another man’s brains.

Go, hot zombie chick, go and I beg you, please never look back.

I don’t want you to see me cry, as I so envy the next man you will attack.

FIN