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Dream  Fragments Redrawn

Sock Man & Invisible Monkey  (Superheroes)

The Day
of the Stupids

Attachment, Separation
& Loss
(part 493)

Run!  Zombies!  Run!

Portrait in Halls with Tall Bare Walls

A Reluctant Gardener

We Laughed
All The Time







The Further Sermons of Father McKenzie

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The Further Sermons of Father McKenzie 07 Run Zombies Run.mp3

Composer:   Ed Hooke
Date of Composition:   December 2016 to February 2017
Date of Recording/Copyright:    March 2017


Commentary
We age, we fade, we wither.  Inevitably  we shall die.

It occurred to me that the horror-fantasy of zombies might be based on our fear of getting old, of ageing and of the elderly , representations of our future selves.


Getting older is going to happen.  For some of us it’s already happening..  We might as well make the best of it.  This is what I’m trying to convince myself, at least.  So I’ve taken up running.

Run! Zombies!  Run!

We are the living dead.
We have lived.
We have died
- perhaps many times.
Here still we are.

We are the living dead.
We have hoped.
We have worked.
We have waited.
We have loved

and we have lost
and we have wept
and still here we are.


We are the living dead.
We are your secret dread.
One day you
will be too
just as we are.

We are the living dead.
Faces grey, green & red.
Shall our remains
eat your brains

scraping out
what’s left inside your head?
No wonder you scream
“Run! Run! Zombies! Run!”

We are the living dead.
Fester, flake, fungal spread.
Mope and moan.
Gripe and groan.
Such happy days!

We are the living dead.
Our bodies fray, give way.

Frail, we ail.
Systems fail.
Parts of us fall off to our dismay.
One less limb - hurray!

Foul odours - our domains.
Suspicious spots & stains.
Aches & pains.
Crunch & crumble.
Mustn’t grumble.
Grumble anyway
and we hear you say
“Run! Run! Zombies! Run!”

Did I forget or did I just get distracted?
Whatever became of what we used to be?
What are these husks?
- wretched residues that we’ve now become

- worn out bit parts in someone else’s tragedy.

And gradually you cease to be you
and gradually I cease to be me
and gradually we cease to be us
and gradually we’re  ceasing to be.
Tra la la la la la lee.

To be worm bait we wait
- bacterial bites

or in an oven for a day.

Time almost up & done.
Not yet this swan has swun.
Might as well have some fun.
Come on, zombies, run!
Come on, run, zombies!
Run! Run! Zombies, Run!


Review
“Equal parts of truth, comedy and morbidity”
                                                 - Aya, Beirut

NB Aya wishes to remain anonymous so Aya's name (Aya) will not be mentioned at all here.  
Is that OK, Aya?