The gospel of the zombies

'' What do you want to play ? ''

Asks the binaureal intelligence .

'' Let's play at  urban chaos ! ''

the shadows  reply .

My friend ,give the queen of  hearts,

who is mourning,a bouquet of fallen leaves! 

The madman speaking with the voice 

of the crowd heralds the beginning of time !

The  elders ,their eyes filled with heat  waves ,

share a nostalgia about a  bygone  era 

when in supermarkets you'd see a steady stream

of strollers filled with frozen,plump ,hollowed-out babies...

 I no longer recognize anything of that aborted 

avatar of myself ...

 A nutcase on the chessboard staggering along dream

disconnected from the crime ...

 But this is simply a matter of random strategy .

A tsunami warning wandering in the vacant gaze

of a mermaid promised as prey to the psychopath...

I've stopped believing the lies of curves.

I've made myself the apostle of  vertical cold .

Only captivated by the voluptuous geometry 

of quantum death ...

At the bedside of well -behaved  children ,

that wear the  sin of the beauty ,

the ogress tells stories ...

My friend ,before you leave  ,

don't forget to drop a  small obole at the Baron Samedi...