Night of the Livid Dead

Zombie
If sense Was so common
You would make sense
[ semicolon however comma ]

You rail, you flail,
Your brain is in jail ;
Falling in a coffin,
Clawhammer and nail .

Sealed in a bubble bobbing
On a sea of trouble ;
Semipermeable—
Selected voices whisper
Past bluster blisters :

Impenetration
By talking–point bullets,
Past self–sealing double
Phospholipid sequestration
Of cortextual analysis :

A pricking tickle
Of pickled grey matter
Sampled simple black&white,
Voltage of doltage tissue applied ;
Insipid synapses lurch
With trigger issues until :
It’s alive !

Resurrection :
In the dread of night,
The undead hatters march .

Brain

RedBoxPlainSm*[ WSB ].