Life of the ZombieDr. Headway stopped his experiments when three of his "creations" were caught devouring two teenagers and their dog in a city park. Dr. Headway was placed in jail, leaving his labs in the hand of one devoted lab assistant.More Like This
The combined remains of a child, an old vacuum cleaner, and some stuffed animal parts, the lab assistant was grotesque yet fashionable. He was one of the few "creations" that were remotely proportionate, and he's the only one where he kept the original brain. Dr. Headway debated doing this: using the brain of a child was risky in case the child was immature, had undocumented mental impairments, or if the child could still remember life before his or her death.
But Dr. Headway was lucky: he found a child prodigy who died in a tragic pool accident, and he acquired the remains in a private auction in the science community. He had to fork out over a million dollars, mainly because of the brain and the organs that failed in the drowning were so valuable. But it was worth
Dream of meDream of me in goldMore Like This
Within the ashes
Of past dreams
Were just one step higher
Than our eyes
We fly near the sun
In a time of shouting ecstasy
And flesh burning
With beating blood
Dream of me in gold
While I dream of you
In an eternal autumn
Falling on our dreams
Homesick.Homesick.More Like This
The angel's wings are crippled,
As he reaches for the sky,
He still seeks the heavens,
Though he does not no why,
Bound to the earth,
He yearns for his home on high,
Trapped in the realm of mortals,
A tear fills his eye.
Lawrence Cottam 2013
PlaygroundMore Like This
All that autumn her ghost haunted the playground;
no wisping phantom, but strident bits and pieces
clamoring for attention - a pair of black patent
leather shoes waiting expectantly by the teeter-totter.
And Sister Teresa had to pry red woolen mittens
off the jungle gym every morning.
Jimmy Boyle kept seeing her sweater at the swings,
its green wooly arms daring him to go higher
and trying to tag him "it".
And her best friend, Jenny Black
could see the flash of her pigtails
throwing copper across the kickball field
where recess waited to swallow them.
The toys vanished from the sandbox every evening
leaving nothing but a soft trail of disappointment
in their wake -
their accusations of neglect
and longing crouched under the
maple trees, swarming with the bees.
But winter proved a discordant grave -
the protest of frozen ground
an errant melody in the schoolyard
and her shoes kept shrinking
and stumbled down the slide,
leaving a thick crust of frost
like somber tracks that said good-bye