Too Many Mornings

Zombies come out at night to eat the living.

By Dylanz Thomaz

Do not go gentle into that Zombie night,
Where torchz burn and the Undead rave at close of day;
Raging, raging against the livingz sight.

Wise men at their end fear darkest night,
Because their wordz cannot stop flesh eaterz they
Do not go gentle into that Zombie night.

Good men, wave goodbye, crying at the sight
Of frail Zombie demonz dancing for blood and bonez,
Raging, raging against the orange firelight.

Wild Zombiez catch slow soulz in frightened flight,
And dine—yum, thatz greatz—on grief and spleenz,
Which scream not gently into that good night.

Grave men, past death, who see with blinded sight
Blind eyez blazing like meteorz and bloody mouthz a-foam,
Raging, raging at the livingz rapid flight.

And you, my father, there on that gangrenouz height,
Curse the Zombiez now with your fierce eyeballz tears, I prayz.
You are not going gently into that good night.
You are raging, raging against the eating of your brainz.

This Zombie adaptation of the classic Dylan Thomas poem, Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, is dedicated to the fabulous Quirkyloon, who loves Zombie lore and has a horribly misshapen head, but is very funny nonetheless and has become a daily must-read for me and many, many others.

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