Humor | Poetry | Love

My Boyfriend is a Zombie

He’s falling apart at the seams

My boyfriend was a lovely man, kind and warm and cuddly, I’m worried now he’s dead though, he’s turning rather fugly.

His fingers are all scabby, the nails are dropping off, I can see his whitened cheekbones when his dinner he does scoff.

His hair is thin and clumpy, I think it’s falling out. I found a toe on the kitchen floor. He says it’s just his gout.

He no longer meets my loving gaze, I’m really getting worried. I think he’s lost an eyeball too, I saw him eat it, curried.

I haven’t checked his willy yet, (he really loves that cock), I saw the dog with a sausage, though, last night at ten o’clock.

The other day I caught him (he thought I wasn’t there), Sewing his left nipple on, weeping in despair.

“It’s time we talked,” I kindly said while handing him his ear, “Our relationship has run its course, you’d better pack your gear.”

He tried to beg and grovel — his lips would make no sound. They quivered, then they wiggled, then they dropped onto the ground.

I picked them up resignedly and put them in his pocket. He tried to give them back to me and jammed them in my locket.

“I vow to wear your dead cold lips, in jewelry on my chest. If you agree to stay quite dead. You need eternal rest.”

He looked at me dejectedly with his remaining eye, I felt a wave of sadness, he was such a handsome guy.

I took his hand and led him to the hole I had prepared, In the garden by the compost heap, “Get in there,” I declared.

He tried to argue to the last, I had to bash his head in. “Fifty years of living, now it’s time to do some deading.”

I told him sternly, “Please stay dead, this time, to please me, honey. It’s hard work, twice killing you, to access all your money.”