Zombie Love (Bloody Hell)

Is this the place?
They said it was the place
Where small evils rule and sagging cuties cruise
And clumsy zombies fuck themselves into a frenzy.
So is it, any such?
Is this the place where hideous hot-blooded zombies
Wake and fall in love and rut in mud,
Ring silent silver bells in heat, reproduce as such,
And wear each other's fingers out?
You know those fingers, lips, and tongues
Can but fall off at last and turn to dust?
Is this the place where even youthful bosoms
Must turn concave at last without a touch of mirth
And sport the smell of must and lust and lavender
And damp asshole and earth?
We still just yearn to love and touch
Even if only stitches, spit, and formaldehyde holds our insides in,
Even if love stinks, or drools, or loses it's expensive touch
When thick dark sputum spews and spreads like blood
Across your once-expansive breathless chest...

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