From the author:

From the Author:

I will not introduce myself.
I will not ask "How do?"
I will not wave, I will not bow,
Or shake a hand with you.

For I am not polite, my friend;
I have no social grace.
Like you, I have no manners,
And I never learned my place.

Instead I'll write a poem
And I'll put myself in verse,
And if you like the sound of me,
Well, THEN we might converse.

So read a line or two of me,
Or don't, if it's a chore,
But since you've read fifteen of me
I bet you'll read one more.

Click here to contact the author
(...or don't...he doesn't really trust emails from children. They can be sticky).

Tuesday, 4 October 2011

My Brother's a Zombie!

I just can't deny it,
Can no longer hide it,
My brother's a zombie for sure.
The proof is quite clear;
They've turned him, I fear,
And it's sad cause there isn't a cure.

He's turning fifteen,
His toenails are green,
He's got spots all over his face.
He's lanky and grey,
Cause he hides from the day
And his hair is all over the place.

When trying to play
He wanders away,
Dragging his feet like they're lead.
When I throw him the ball
He just lets it fall,
Or it bounces right off of his head.

He can't really walk,
And he can't really talk,
He's immune to what mom and dad say.
When asked to do chores,
He looks at the floors,
Then grunts as he shuffles away.

And look at his room!
The dusty old tomb,
Where pizzas and hamburgers rot;
Who but the dead
Could sleep in a bed
That smells like a sock-stewing pot.

Yes, it's perfectly clear,
It's certain, I fear.
The proof is infallibly plain.
What proves it the most
Is he's dumb as a post
Cause zombies have eaten his brain.                                              

Like this poem?  Try these ones: Zombies Came To Class One Day,  Zombie LandThere are Zombies in the Schoolyard, Lucinda Met a Zombie Man, Zombie Reunion, and Home Sweet Zombie Apocalypse.

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