Santa’s zombies get the message

going in the other direction

writing new lines in a taxi

hiding all the mince pies from the Art Guild

 

And this isn’t really a poem but it is something

I had to write

 

Only the dead eat off the page

zombie kids rule INNIT

Grim becomes miserable

 

Judge the poets in the cardboard box

Santa banned from Stockport for eating

all the pies. Fires roar across town

Flashes of laughter and fire!

 

Inferno party. Scorched earth. Cockroaches rejoice.

Flick the flame of lust

then lick the mince pies

 

The blank page glared at me accusingly.