An Excerpt from the Forthcoming Memoir

Brain Mill Press was kind enough to feature this brief excerpt from my memoir, And There Was Evening and There Was Morning, forthcoming in September from WTAW Press!






                     by Jeff Sessions

You can’t have the President of the United
States of America talking about The Border.

Civility is stretching — An empire
waist to Roosevelt’s “teddy bear hunt”–

that there is a friend and guide
in the long spaces which call you home

and promise the distant mystery of the busted
and soaked road. It is false that rooms

don’t lead people to the windows.
He is already causing a disturbance

in the bright channels that have
made friends mean.

The original:
“You can’t have the President of the United States of America talking about marijuana. You are sending a message to young people that there is no danger in this process. It is false that marijuana use doesn’t lead people to more drug use. It is already causing a disturbance in the states that have made it legal.”

#zombiepoetry #poetryapocalypse


You weren’t looking before to
“A dead trap.” were you? To

surfacing into Time and letting someone
lead this here road of desperation?

Ahead guess what? Whatever that project was
the dust is about to shirk Everyone — And The sky?

Not bright. So smile and accept the hour graciously.
You’ll do a fine job of surprise. You might not enjoy


See the original and more at:

#zombiepoetry #poetryapocalypse

The More Things Change….

“Those guys are made-for-TV monsters and,
although we love a horror flick, demand,
polls show, can’t meet increased supply, of late.
(The line between the sunk and saturate
is fine for any sponge. We Pluribus
Unums vote our consciences to worry less
about communalized better interest—
But squeezed enough, all sponges turn centrist.)
One-third alone approve a CEO
whose daily mispronouncements softly echo
his enemies. I’ve heard myself on tape
and want to sympathize, but stand agape
(in wonder, not in love) at what he says.
Printers once brayed their ink, but he just brays.”


from BYRON IN BAGHDAD (2006)


I crossed, leaving at the staccato-thumping.
Fire had finished the book; we were then showing
the dust. And punishment had the most beautiful piece
of its owner that you’ve ever seen, and the strange smoke
combed it, dancing.

And the original:

“I was sitting at the table. We had finished dinner. We’re now having dessert. And we had the most beautiful piece of chocolate cake that you’ve ever seen and President Xi was enjoying it.”

#zombiepoetry #poetryapocalypse


Our sight: The imitative art is the grass
hip-high. A narrator: very ludicrous,
this place. And is this confined
to the sight only? Or does time extend

to your mind also, burning, in fact,
to what we term a mass market that falls
to pieces when your heart meets water? A wooden sign:
Here the same would be stiff from our deaths.

Here’s the original (Socrates and Glaucon):

S: The imitative art is an inferior who marries an inferior, and has inferior offspring.
G: Very true.
S: And is this confined to the sight only. Or does it extend to the hearing also, relating in fact to what we term poetry?
G: Probably the same would be true of poetry.

#zombiepoetry #poetryapocalypse

Treason: A Zombie Poem

Betrayal clearly has its orange reward:
The old blind limp satisfaction of having

one up on the country. It is the straight
killer of the mistress, and this regime

used fire as horns, which may have
been given as punishment.

Here’s the original:

“Betrayal clearly has its own reward: the small deep human satisfaction of having one up on someone else. It is the psychology of the mistress, and this regime used it as fuel.”

#zombiepoetry #poetryapocalypse


A Zombie Poem

1 Disreputable to the gray mystery of the
long silence hereafter. 2 An easy hammer
and drill. 3 That sun must have offered
to the earthworks before man things of a Naturalist.

4 The world must be some busted objection
to square. 5 That I should never settle
down to the way hereafter. What else?
Movement. 8 That my mind would be home.


(1) Disreputable to my character as a Clergyman hereafter.
(2) A wild scheme.
(3) That they must have offered to many others before me, the place of Naturalist.
(4) And from its not being accepted there must be some serious objection to the vessel or expedition.
(5) That I should never settle down to a steady life hereafter.
(6) That my accommodations would be most uncomfortable.
(7) That you should consider it as again changing my profession.
(8) That it would be a useless undertaking.

#zombiepoetry #poetryapocalypse

Definition of Diplomacy: A Zombie Poem

Movement: The windows pleading negotiations
between the lights. So what? Nothing
to do but sigh and go safe without

arousing a new regime:
Heaven did a wish with our tears.


See the original and more at:

#zombiepoetry #poetryapocalypse


Defend yourself against tyranny by following
the innocents. Listen for their stories.

Listen for straying. Determine if the staff
has broken into your mind. Open up

a wish (rice and soy and corn)
for this time, expanding from the sky.

Look for the names in the yard. Look
for any evidence that things cried

in the grass hip-high. Do alone
the best work with luck.


Here’s the original:

Defend yourself against wiretappers and spies by following these tips:
Listen for breathing.
Listen for clicking.
Determine if anyone has broken into your home.
Open up your phone’s receiver.
Check for any suspicious wires running from your phone.
Look for a permanent splice in your phone wires.
Look for any evidence that a bug was ever in your home.
Don’t mess with the evidence.

#zombiepoetry #poetryapocalypse