what is meant by playing deadthe house looks like helium. it is faded with cold as its body, thickets of slatted wood painted palely. shutters are closed eyelids, unbearable lightness to the miserly scene before them.what is meant by playing dead6 years ago in General Fiction
these streets are cobbled and winter-bleached, colours in hibernation save for three bodies of varying paleness lying slatternly in its centre.
bones compounded, salted twigs in white shades bent and broken; there is no blood, just an overwhelming taste of death.
who's that? a bloodless face murmurs from its position on the axis of the recumbent spine.
think his name's johnny, a nearby body whispers.
it's not, the broken limbs in question croaks.
the wind calls for a hush. feet shuffle in stumbling waves, the way they would at a wake, before the judgemental face of the open casket.
are they all dead? a crisp voice calls.
the bodies on the cold road cringe at the sharpness of the sound. a bird rustles the newspapers just fallen from the basket.
a black boot taps a girl's shattere
Walking DeadThe world has come to an end,Walking Dead3 years ago in Concrete Poetry
Better grab a friend,
The blood of the innocent will run red,
It's the night of the walking dead.
Eyes so dull,
They show no soul,
Hearts not in check,
The city in a wreck.
Police, Swat, FBI,
No other place to hide,
When there is no one else to call,
May God help us all.