1 minute read
Ken Poyner
Family
You consider your options. The sudden onset Of the zombie apocalypse Has put a hold on your Plans for the afternoon picnic. $8.99 a pound for the special Spiced, shaved turkey, and likely It is going to waste. So much For potato salad and deviled Eggs. Just time to wolf a few Down in the front room, Place the kids with the remainder In the attic, retrieve your axe From the utility room, get on With business. Oh look, There is uncle James. He Was the reason you never got That puppy, and now he is Dead but undead. Surely He goes first.
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Ken Poyner
Feral
You are not going to believe this, But last night I found what must be at least Twenty gallons of abandoned water Resting just beyond my back door. I had no thought such might be there. I followed no series of two And three-part equations to find myself Driven by a higher finite factor To find this water. I am not Complaining. No. I wish it had been Forty gallons, or fifty. All morning In the rain I will be bringing it in, Preparing to announce my good fortune, To warble the praise of hydration happenstance. At my next party I will open it A sly gallon at a time, look conspiratorially to each side As I remind my tempted guests This is no ordinary party, This is no ordinary water. This is abandoned water. Sip only as much as you might sacrifice.
