Tuesday Poem: No Tomorrow

You all knew where you were
when you heard the news-
shambling
down the motorway
to the apocalypse

So forget yesterday
and tomorrow
the worst of plans
is letting the sun
shine
on the path
when there's no
best foot
to put forward -
not between the lot of us -

since the rot set in and
gangrene
on broken bone
became the height of summer fashion




Cant remember when
we weren't all holding on -
broken fingernails
sliding
on tarmac

wont wait 'til tomorrow
when the sun'll come out

and we'll fry
on the tarmac
raising a stink
like green eggs
and ham-

today


A.J.


So that's the poem this week, it's a bit of a tricky one, so won't be surprised if it changes a little. Suggestions, as always, very welcome. Have even toyed with making it a couple of poems - after all - there can never be enough zombie apocalypse poems in the world - not when metaphorical disaster is more fun than the real thing.

If poems are your thing, why not check out the Tuesday Poem hub, full of poemy goodness.

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And tell me what poems you'd like to see in my upcoming poetry book—2024 I'd love to have the time to write more, and get this poetry blog running again.