Ohmn nom nom

Zombie folk rock meets Office Space. Jonathan Coulton's zombies stagger around a mall, but I prefer to think of it as an airport.



This has inspired a part II to the emo poem I wrote when K and I first met. Now, five years into the relationship, it's all about the undead. Here's part of it:


After 1

Remove contact
cataract night glasses

K’s mouth
is just a black
hole in his face

dream I ate his brain
and our fight
diffused by morning

4686868 bytes transmitted in
58 seconds our brain,
the cat puts a parasite in

so we love him more, suffer
the rug with litter and
his gastric juices

Shadow, the oldest cat K brought
to our cohabitance and a corpse
already under the floorboard

heart heart
burrow in
become zero