Zombie Love Blues (The Re-Animation)

Zombie Love Blues

Illustration by Bob Snare

by Mike Allen


Well I luv yer soft squishy rottin’ face
An’ the way yer flesh droops all over the place
I’d-a kiss ya right to show ya mah luv
If-a only my lips wouldn’ keep fallin’ off
(C’mon bay-bee do th’ Re-An-i-may-shun)

Well I luv yer peelin’ scalp an’ yer putrid charms
When I-a held yer han’ it broke off-a yer arm
I’d-a luv to jump yer bones in the back-a mah car
But I’m afraid my fambly jewels would-a fall apart
(C’mon bay-bee do th’ Re-An-i-may-shun)

To dance with-a you is so dee-vine
It makes all th’ vertebrae pop from my spine
Yer sweet kisses ferment like-a wine
Ain’t nuthin’ like a luv long past its time
(C’mon bay-bee do th’ Re-An-i-may-shun)


Snuffing the Dragon

Snuffing the Dragonby Mike Allen


Pity the harvester of dragon phlegm,
whose task is to collect those smoldering gobs—
’tis no surprise there are not more of them.

One molten glop worth more than any gem,
yet higher still the toll for these hot jobs.
Pity the harvester of dragon phlegm.

This ever-burning undousable phlegm
lures merchants far and wide in wheedling mobs.
Surprised, you say, there are not more of them?

To aim the snuff requires a stratagem
that lets one dodge the flaming, hurtling blobs,
(Pity the harvester of dragon phlegm!)

and dragons’ temperaments tend to condemn
to fiery death these enterprising squabs.
’Tis no surprise there are not more of them.

A phlegm-collector’s wife (Ai! Pauvre femme!)
is known by her black veil and mournful sobs.
Pity the harvesters of dragon phlegm,
’tis no surprise there are not more of them.