Dummy (an acrostic poem)

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Don’t tell me what to say

Unless you think you have your hand up my ass

My maker gave me a mouth, and I damn well will use it myself

Maybe you can make others turn their heads and move their arms to your whims

Yet you will never make me your wood-headed puppet, you ….

Chop (an acrostic poem)

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Cutting wood and working up a sweat

He fell into a rhythm that made the job almost pleasurable

Only his hands, his back, and his arms would claim otherwise

Perhaps it wasn’t pleasurable at all

Smoke (an acrostic poem)

Smelling the wood burning brought it all back

Memories of singing and dancing

Of friends that became family

Knowing that the night was never going to be long enough

Eventually the fire died, but I will always have that scent

 

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Bat (an acrostic poem)

Bashing zombie heads with a glorious ash wood barrel

Amy felt the most alive fighting for her life, but then she got bit

That’s why she felt dead when she arose the next day after

 

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