Gators Versus Zombies

Get to work. Get your kit together, sunbeam.
Your mouth must be cut - there's blood in your ice cream.
Go to town. They're waiting for you downstream.
Too bad. You were having such a nice dream,
but dreaming is rarely, if ever at all, fruitful
while you long for something as simple and brutal
as gators versus zombies

You spy a gap, but the crowd moves fast,
cuts you off at the pass. Muzzles are flashed.
Hoardes of Old Catton buses go past.
You flake in the sun, you shrink in the blast
of a snarl you can't stand; the feeling is mutual.
And you long for something as simple and brutal
as gators versus zombies
versus nuns
or Godzilla versus Mecha-Godzilla
and Mothra - something that stuns

There's always the money for one more privateer,
always room for another broken ear.
Though anyone who knows you knows you don't smoke here,
you hotrock your face and get ash in your tear.
The elements never come up to a total -
you find that you long for it simple and brutal
as gators versus zombies
versus nuns, or Vicky
tearing off someone's legs and arms

You still can't gather your hands round the crucible.
You still aren't certain this method is suitable.
You still only nibble the edge of the cuticle.
You still aren't sure if you like the word, 'Beautiful'.
And it seems pretty much anyone with a vote'll
yearn and burn for anything senseless and brutal
as gators versus zombies
versus nuns versus amazons with guns

When every dirty detail is devilishly crucial
you can't help but want something savage and brutal
as gators versus zombies in the Cajun swamps,
nuns wading in with habits hoisted
around their knees, single-breasted
amazons with tazers and Vicky
beating everyone to death
with their own

hewn

limbs