a letter from 'the Zombie Brigade'

Writing this through sub-Saharan sunglasses,
by a lot of black light, posters, etc.:
anyway,
Kyle said he'd introduce us
and from what I've heard
we have mutual friends at 'the hive,' etc.

My name is (redacted) ;
I'm 31,
b.a.,
an active father
of three dispersed children,
and a Lieutenant in
the 'the self-defense Zombie Brigade...'
unsure what I'm telling
this for.

All's quiet on
The Northwestern Front,
and at night,
amid the sloshing
and drum-like choir,
the streets gleam psychedelic
with gasoline rainbows
and rife with feral
or just unusual elements...
freaks of every description
and day-job

Many of us have h.i.v.,
or relatively pacific porphyria,
and most 'the American parasite'
though that's the same
with most of America,
half the magazines say

well, it's been three days in
reading Ginsberg, Poe, and Pushkin,
over which I took the liberty
of two Samosas,
and the occasional 'camel crush'
with Oksana...

So now it's off
to another long
drizzly, swaying march,
always leaving three bayonet-lengths
between you and the soldier ahead
of you,
which you'll know
by the glowing yin-yang
on the back of his helmet.
Officers do the talking
if we're stopped,
so I'm assisting with this;
it's only rarely
a problem actually

I look forward to hearing from you,
moon-sick,        (redacted)