Day One of the zombie apocalypse was not what I expected. It never dawned on me that there is a transition period. You don’t just immediately start shitting in the woods and eating squirrels while carrying a rifle. I’m sure it will move in that direction as time goes on. But right now, it’s strange. Sure, I have canned goods stocked up, but as I’m writing this, I’m eating a salad with feta and Caesar dressing. That shit goes bad fast.

I just paid my electric bill and car payment. You never know if an apocalypse will last one day or one decade, and I’m sure as hell not paying a late fee if it’s the former. Tomorrow I’m cleaning the leaves out of my gutters, because I’ll be damned if I have to deal with zombies AND ice dams this winter.

I haven’t even seen any zombies yet. Everyone’s just vaguely terrified, not knowing what to do. I vacuumed. I’ve seen some of my neighbors out doing things here and there while carrying guns. I’m not completely convinced this is even real. We’re all just basically LARPing until we know for sure.

My cats don’t seem fazed. Aren’t animals supposed to be able to sense catastrophes like earthquakes? They’re sort of the “flight attendants” of mammals--if they don’t look freaked out, you’re probably okay.

 I’m gonna play some Candy Crush and head to bed. I’ll sleep better knowing that I thought to stock up on tampons. No one ever mentions how important it is to stock up on feminine hygiene products. They’re hard to come by in the wilderness. And I’ve heard that bears can smell the blood. I don’t know about zombies. But I know I’d be mad as hell if I escaped a zombie apocalypse only to get eaten by a bear. That’s the kind of thing that will piss you right off.

A neighbor. Black. Full of life. Unarmed.

s i r e n s 

voices people colors white black blue commands yelling

can't hear confusion scuffles barking what is happening

helicopter anger screaming fear hands up rights questions

SHOTS FIRED

scuffle ground gravel head in dirt knee on back can't breathe

outnumbered overwhelmed afraid video crowd screams

screams screams fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear

s i l e n c e 

A neighbor. Black. Empty of blood. Unarmed.

Her fingers flipped the flooded codex,

parchment pages penned in black,

noting names in lilting lists—

the human holdings of the ship.

The isolated isle felt icy

(though the sunshine sharply seared).

And while she read the rolling roster,

whited waves would call and crash.

The manifest had floated, followed

chased (or chided?) by the sea.

It carried names of dead and drowned,

except the one—the reader’s own.

glints off a

{drinking fountain

wedding ring

handcuff}

and into eyes

immediately shielded

by hands 

that won't share power.

Light-days, super, super-plus,

regular or slim,

long or extra coverage,

short or thick or thin,

six- or twelve- or twenty-four-,

even sixty-count.

We all bleed the same. (It's true--

just not the same amount.)