Lame Zombie Limerick

I was waiting in the car the other day, and I thought to myself, “Self, you should be doing something other than sit sitting and staring out the window.”

And then I thought, “All right then, what should I do? What does the world need?”

And then it came to me. “There just isn’t enough zombie poetry out there.”

So I whipped out my notebook and began to scribble.

My head filled with thoughts of an epic poem detailing the struggle of the last survivor as he fought his way to safety only to have him fail just steps from his goal. Unfortunately, this is all I could come up with.

Lame Zombie Limerick
by Bryce Beattie

A zombie is something undead
That doesn’t eat butter or bread

It just wants to bite
Your face off, all right

Won’t stop ’till its shot in the head.

7 thoughts on “Lame Zombie Limerick

  1. Best.

    *Ovation* Bravo! Is this going to appear in the Broadway production? I think it should. Perhaps sung by a drunken man to whom no one listens outside a majestic old building in London, with a thick cockney accent and a pair of gloves with no fingers on it.

    Very cool, Bryce. Very cool. 🙂

    Oh, I shot zombies all in the head,
    From earliest morn until bed.

    Until one moonless night,
    they snuck up on me to bite,

    And now I’m just another undead!

    God bless, bud. 🙂

  2. Very nice to the both of you! Excellent. Y’all set the bar, let’s see if I can make the grade:

    I am dead but walking, more moaning then talking.

    If my hands I can put on you, I’ll take a bite and then chew.

    It’s no fun being dead, but I guess the same as being wed.

    But it’s all the same, as long as I’m fed.

  3. Though Zombies are known to eat Brains
    Or feast on rotting human remains
    Most prefer to eat Carrion
    But if he’s vegetarian
    Then ask him if he’d like some Grains

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