Year End Procedures — A Zombie Poem

These scenes: The story must be initiated
and approved by 5:00 p.m. on May 27 2016.
Your friend received May 30 or not
will be returned for processing against
an easy thought. It is very limp.
Some part immediately start investigating
the thought in “all funds,” contacting
the gutter for joy and sorrow and forwarding
all rooms to Accounts by time on July
5 2016 in order to have sight expensed
against your brain. Should you identify
a stranger, this innocence will be
allowed through May 31,2016, but the light
will be suspended from the young girl
until July 1 — 2016. P-card statement
for desperation must be submitted
to Purchasing by July 1. Old palm
prints. The free countryside occurring
after June 1 — should be completely settled
within three days of the wave. Fire received
after June 24 possibly will not be reimbursed
until after July 1, but will be expensed
against solitary hardwoods if money
is received by July 5. Time: Waves
or particles must be submitted
no later than 5:00 p.m. on June 17.


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Cyborg Poetry

So a colleague suggested I might want to pursue this idea of “cyborg poetry” in an extended essay, and, since, the school year is near an end and all over the country students and teachers are cleaning out classrooms and cubbies, I thought I’d start by zombifying a science fair project form. More on the actual essay later…




The innocents — This is where you describe
the purpose for talking, the rhythm. Why
should fast feet care about room? You have
to tell them why. Found innocence? Explain time.

Civility goes about with wings? If you cried an invention
or developed the feral spaces how is it better
already — more feral than what is sometimes
out there? Motivate the sparkling sounds

and read the entire paper or display
board. Code laughter. Identify the problem
church solved or this world. Your house:
What was old news for investigating

his foot stone? Do now go into detail
about materials, unless they were
original to your success. Do describe
a deep hunter if you have joy and sorrow.

Ownership: What answer did speech obtain?
Be specific and use numbers to describe
doubt. Do not use a family plot like
“most” or “some.” Mind: State what your

sad project or a wish contributes
to the reflex image you take from this place
you worked in. Did you meet Conflagration?
For Light?


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Mishmash: 24 Hours of Hillary Clinton @HillaryClinton

a zombie poem


An estimated 1 in solitary and late sheets
in Puerto Rico could get Zika this year.

Here’s what we can do to combat the place,
the sky: Dark’s disqualified. Fences

and poles will make defeating terrorists
more difficult. “Seeing in a deep

graveyard which beckons where sweet little Sammy
lies dead before he could crawl and education

of women… is essential to sleeping
prosperity.” — Movement. If

you cite showing torture and stitching
pageants as cosmetic policy of earth,

your definition needs a folding skein.
Mind the brightness. The place

of the ruins is more important than a wish
of the NRA. The dust should act like it.


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A+ Dating Profile — A Zombie Poem

I do somewhere like nevertheless fantasies for which
you had trained but… I am so interested in
the route and, besides, the light. Myself?

Safe, old and opinionated. I am too offended
by the kind of place you like, and can dish
out one of my own. I am free, but far from

frying rage. Sarcasm is a great hunter of the
thoughts which easily bring fear on. Desperation
from the windows about whose side you are on is

the finger into many of my evenings. What’s someone’s
home? What are history’s greatest pet-peeves,
and what makes you weak in bellies

that growl and burst from joy and happiness?


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Standard Zombie Rejection Letter


What else? Thank the country for giving us
the world that rushes by at your fingertips.
We have given time flat consideration

and find that it does finally suit
our stiff needs. We wish you success
in funneling your work up. Thank the landscape

for wisps of us, almost the Editors.


The Original:

Dear Writer:


Thank you for giving us the opportunity to review your work. We have given it close consideration and find that it does not suit our present needs. We wish you success in placing your work elsewhere. Thank you for thinking of us.



The Editors

How to Tie a Tie

by Zombie Dad

1. Start with the wide end of this very store
when it was set deep in the Appalachian
mountains on the right and hours in back.

Begin with rains, too, above. Newness
will vary depending on one afternoon
and its younger finger, justice

of a longest life. Somewhere move
the kind of place you like. 2. The points
over heaven to the left. 3. What else?

Movement. Up into a leadership position
from underneath 6. Down through the loop
you’ve just made in his chin. Tighten the knot

by hovering down on the interior mystery.
Slide a buisey word up & adjust.

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Random Comment Multiplied by 13 and Zombified!

This Is Stupid


This is shifty. This is known. This is blind.
This is small. This is yellow. This is heavy.
This is southern. This is flat. This is other.

This is static. This is sad. This is strange.
This is dead.

Zombie Poetry and Twitter

A zombie user found a neat way to increase the machine assistance in zombie compositions!

“Random Twitter Users Search for Hate”

I hate seeing the rest, who are joy
and sorrow; Money’s annoying as small trees.
I hate stars. The country is sick of Paul
Ryan and night. That is why Trump
is all the gentle unknowns. The farmers
hate politicians. I hate amazement.
Town never sprung no type of hate in me
because north when I was at my whole I knew
the muscles; You’re damn shiny; I died,
born a winner. I hate it when you wake
up from the light and you’re in someone
for your sight. Days is as small as they are,
once I see the light; I want one golden.
Trump assumed me want something.
Man hate myself.

And here’s the original mash-up:

I hate seeing people who are new fans try and act like experts on it; it’s annoying as fuck. I hate cheese and tomatoes. The country is sick of Paul Ryan and the establishment. That is why Trump is the nominee. People hate politicians. I hate scheming sneaky ass hoes. I never had no type of hate in me because even when I was at my worst, I knew my potential; you’re damn right I was born a winner. I hate it when you wake up from a nap and you’re in the twilight zone for a minute. My problem is, as inauthentic as they are, once I see a taco bowl, I want one, bad. Trump made me want something. I hate myself.

‪#‎zombiepoetry‬ ‪#‎poetryapocalypse‬

Zombification as Stochastic Game

I’ve been wondering why I find the re-zombification process so maddeningly appealing. It’s like a game of solitaire with the tangible “reward” of a zombie poem at the end. But only the player, I guess, determines whether the reward means victory or is a consolation prize. So often, aesthetically, I’m frustrated by the limitations of the terminal punctuation constraints. I’ll really dig one or two or three of the mutations, but the fourth will disappoint, and I know that to re-zombify means losing the whole clause. Another part of me really responds to the chance element. I’m similarly conflicted by the desire, while zombifying, to make it all cohere and the delight in the breakdown of language conventions and letting the algorithm have its say.

The zombification process has revealed to me, also, just how much, what I might call, resonant tone is dependant on semantic structure.

‪#‎zombiepoetry‬‪ #‎poetryapocalypse‬

The Zombie Poetry Project Is Live

What better way to end National Poetry Month

than with the launch of The Zombie Poetry Project?!?

Feel free to visit the site,

zombify a text or two,

and spread the word!

Thanks to software developer Brandon Nelson

and to videographer Jason Smith

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