FOUR SEASONS BREEZE | OCTOBER 2023 53
Writers' Club
My Grandpa is a Zombie
By Jeffrey J. Hoy (July 2021)
Yes, my grandpa is a zombie
He's one of the original undead
You heard "the words coming out of my
mouth"
You heard exactly what I said
Because he's not quite housetrained
We keep him out in the shed
We should have put him down long ago
But decided to keep him "alive" instead
We muzzle him so he won't bite
And slip on a thick pair of oven mitts
The ear buds are so he won't hear us
And with strong perfume we give him a
spritz
Our dog often tries to nibble his ankles
While the cat mostly just hisses and spits
Our parrot likes to ride on his shoulder
When the old deadhead rotter permits
He used to be a pretty good writer
But now he's just another lamebrain
So, when we take him out in public
We keep him on a short piece of chain
Our white trash neighbors keep chickens
and goats
So, who are they to bitch and complain
While some might believe it's very cruel
We don't think it's at all inhumane
Before he died, he had a huge vocabulary
Now he's certainly not much of a talker
To keep young whippersnappers off our lawn
We set him on the porch in a rocker
With a twelve-gauge shotgun across his lap
The sight can certainly be a shocker
Many a passer-by will stop and point
Instantly going from pedestrian to gawker
Grandpa never whines about the weather
He's just fine in sun or wind or rain
It's much better than in the old days
When he always had to complain
Still, living with the living dead
Makes day-to-day life such a pain
But if it really bothers you that much
Let me finish this and try to explain
Back in the day he played with me
On the slide and swing and seesaw
I understand that keeping a zombie
Makes me kind of an outlaw
So go ahead and keep up your protests
And your vulgar signs and loud hoopla
But that "thing" you want to kill
Is in fact my favorite grandpa.
~ Mary Lynn Archibald, mlarchibald@
mac.com
