ZombiePhD

a ZOMBIE is a preternaturally ANIMATED undead
CORPSE, often to be found CRAWLING with MAGGOTS.



this particular zombie (phd) has an unwholesome
interest in BRAAAINSSS!!!!!!!!



it also wrote a poem, with or without apologies
to
ts eliot:



THE SCUL SONG OF J ZOMBIE PHD

let us go then, you and me
where the midnight is spread out across the
street
like a patient lover on silk sheets
let us go beneath the city sky
where laugh and cry
the restless homeless by the package store
the dressed-up yuppies hanging at the bar
they start and stare
and ask, \"from where...?\"
o do not wait to chatter with them
let us go upon our mission

at the fort the pilots come and go
talking of campagnolo

the sticky grease that coats the links of chain
the blackened grease that coats gear-teeth and
chain
licked out onto fingers, faces, clothes
lingered like street-oil on storm-drains
saw iridescence green and silver-grey
and seeing that it was a saturnight
slipped out of the house, and sped away

you ask is this worth it? yes, i feel
the preflight paranoia, loose bolt and cracking
weld
insufficient plasma, cockpits by duct-tape held
to be in flight inside the swerving wild
pack of pilots, to wear a manic smile
and spin the universe beneath my wheels
and roll beyond the need for asking questions
to call out \"port!\" or \"starboard!\",
\"asteroid!\"
above the songs of rubber, asphalt, steel
if one, zombie, human, droid
can say, \"yes, this
is everything and all,
this is what i came for, after all.\"

this is just my first year, after all
to know the launch- and landing-pads as home
to measure saturnights in light-years flown
and helpless watch some several pilots fall
and help some maggots pilot on their own
but how am i to pwn?

at the fort the pilots come and go
talking of campagnolo

for i am not an iron cog, nor was meant to be
am but a first-year pilot, that might do
to holler \"incoming!\", high-five a hand or two
plug in the compressor, hold a tool
clueless and yet glad to be of use
impolitic and ridiculous
full of good intentions, but a bit obtuse
at any time less mythic than fictitious
not so much superhero as the fool.

i grow old, i grow old
i hit the coaster brake and still i rolled

shall i braid my hair in sevens? dare i eat a
nectarine?
i shall wear a purple helmet with a stripe of
lurid green.
i have heard the pilots sing and hoot and scream
-- but still i think they mostly laugh at me.

we\'d all seen scul riding, iridescent on the
streets
impossible geometries, too long or short or tall
the blasting funk, the spinning disco ball

we have lingered on the sidewalks for too long
blinded as the blink and beat swept by
til we mount and push the pedals, and we fly.

Tour of Duty

Enlistment Date080405
HostDozer
Knighted080419
Knighted ByDozer
Missions32
Light Years622.48
Experience0

Task Force Record

Chalk Bag1
Compressor Wrangler8
Flat Bag2
Gate Attendant1
Maggot Filterer2
Medi Bag10
Mission Leader1
Mission Reporter3
Navigator1
Paper Wrangler2
Sentry2
Skynet Operator Pre1
Sticker Bag1
Still Cam1
Stillcam Downloader1

Accolades

Hi-Fives/Waves Back391
Cups186
Colors on Bag1
Colors on Person1
Insignia on Person1
MRC Basic22.5
Skynet10
Shields29
Misc Bonus10494
Stone Cog
2008
Intergalactic
1
Century
1
Builder
2
Diplomat
6
Valor
2
Injury
1
Patronage
3
Strength
2