Zombies Can Be Picky

I sat atop a gravestone

In a night as black as soot

When the fingers of a zombie

Grabbed me tight around the foot.

“Get off, you zombie freak!” I screamed

Your fingers really hurt!”

But the zombie kept his grip

And pulled me down into the dirt.

He bit me in the neck

Which sparked a lightning bolt of pain

Then he offered me a sandwich

He called “bacon, egg and brain.”

The sandwich was delicious

And the bite was soon forgotten

I hardly even noticed that my skin

Looked green and rotten.

I asked, “Another sandwich, please?

This time on whole-wheat bread.”

But the zombie said: “We’re out of brains…

We’ll need some from your head!”

“Zombies don’t eat each other’s brains!”

I said, but he said, “Lies!”

So we attacked each other’s skulls

Both fighting for our lives.

He tried to tear my head apart

With his long fingernails

But soon the graveyard watchman

Heard our scuffling and our wails.

“What’s all the ruckus?” watchman asked

“We’re zombies,” I explained

“We’re hungry for a sandwich

But we want each other’s brains.”

“The moment I've been waiting for!”

The graveyard watchman cried

“I’ve developed artificial brain…

Would you two like to try?

It’s made with starch and processed soy

It’s great to eat with chips!

I made it to prevent

The living dead apocalypse!”

We thought at first the graveyard watchman

Must have been insane

But then he let us try

A slice of artificial brain.

It had the same pink wrinkly grooves

And fatty, chewy feel

In fact, it was more tasty than

My first cerebral meal.

“Do you have more?” we asked the man

And he said, “Yes, indeed!

If there’s one thing true of zombies

It’s how much they love to feed!”

Turned out the graveyard watchman

Had twelve buckets of the stuff

“Eat up, my zombies!” he announced

“I'm sure there'll be enough!”

We ate the brains, but we weren't full

The watchman wasn't right

Twelve buckets of the brains

Could not defeat our appetite.

“Wait, wait! I’ll make some more!” he said

But it was far too late

Next thing we knew, we had

The watchman’s brains upon a plate.

Which goes to show that though

You can make good things out of soy

A brain’s a brain
Sometimes you just can’t beat the real McCoy.