the common people*

your yellow feet
stick to the
varicose street
and your heart
slows to
a viscous beat

we are the common people
come, join us
and expect
the expected
your crooked teeth
grind
under the heat
as you touch and grab
for a bite
to eat

we are the common people
worse than the sum
of our parts
and we have many
many parts

your sunken cheek
keeps springing
a leak
while your tongue
is swallowed for
its meat

we are the common people
come, join us
and infect
the uninfected

for it's the beautiful people
we want

we want to be them
and
we want them
to be us


* The Horse Race, painted by Judy Hall Grieve. The poem is my first attempt at writing a "zombie poem", but a lot of it was also inspired by being invited to a gala premier of a Hong Kong movie and being witness to famous celebrities up close and personal. I know it sounds silly but it's quite amazing just how "beautiful" these people are in person. At the end of the night, I was left with this surreal feeling of being both in admiration of these people and immensely insecure with myself. And perhaps that's how zombies feel, if they feel anything at all.