Zombies Don’t Jingle
A Living Dead Christmas Poem
By Rusty Fischer, author of Zombies Don’t Cry
Copyright © 2010 by Rusty Fischer
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. All of the names, characters, places and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.
Cover credit: Ivan Bliznetsov
Zombies Don’t Jingle
We caroled on Elm Street
We caroled on Oak;
Yes, I’d have to say
We were caroling folk!
We sang ‘til our voices
Were scratchy and sore;
Then swallowed a cough drop
And sang 10 songs more!
The snow felt so chilly
On our bright, singing faces;
As we shuffled around
In brightly lit spaces.
The houses were decked out
So merry and gay;
As we caroled and sang
All night and all day.
Our noses were frosty
As we rounded Pine Street;
Struggling to stand
On our achy, sore feet.
“One more then we’re finished,”
Pastor Carol did boast.
“Then it’s back to the rec hall
Where it’s warm as fresh toast!”
We started to sing
That old Silent Night;
When the door burst wide open
And gave us a fright!
Three zombies came stumbling
Out the Harrington’s door;
Dripping our neighbor’s blood
All over the floor.
Those zombies they saw us
And gave quite a start;
And the smell that came off them
Was worse than… a fart!
It reeked quite of death
Of rot and decay;
Not things one should smell
On a bright Christmas Day!
Their teeth were quite yellow
Their eyes were pure red;
And the gray of their skin
Made it clear they were… undead.
I wanted to bolt
I wanted to run;
But the zombies were hungry
For some holiday fun.
I turned to find seven
Shuffling up to my back;
And six more stumbled over
To wage their attack.
Our church group was surrounded
Our future quite grim;
Until I croaked out a suggestion
To good Pastor Jim.
“The end is quite certain,”
I said with a frown;
“But I’d like one more carol
Before we go down!”
The zombies were inching
Getting ready for a fight;
When our voices sang steady
Of that first… Silent Night.
We sang to the rooftops
We sang to the rafter;
Not caring a whit
For what might happen… after.
I waited each minute
For a crunch or a bite;
For the gnawing to start
On this non-Silent night.
But the zombies stood still
And drooled on their feet;
As our singing and caroling
To them was... quite sweet.
The song it did end
And the zombies all clapped;
Sue Briggs tried to run –
In no time she was trapped.
Before we could sing
Before we could try;
They ripped her to pieces
And sucked her bones dry.
We all stood there trembling
As they wallowed in gore;
Until I haltingly suggested
That we best sing… one more!
With each Christmas carol
The zombies they sighed;
But each time we stopped
The next caroler died!
We sang and we sang
That long Christmas day;
Until the last zombie
Just… drifted away.
“We still have three songs left,”
The last caroler said.
Then I looked all around
To find my friends… dead.
The street was quite empty
The town deadly still;
I stepped on a finger
It gave me a chill!
I wandered for hours
Until it was night;
And found no survivors
Nope, not one in sight.
On the far edge of town
I heard quite a grumbling;
Like the groaning and retching
Of a hundred stomachs rumbling.
I still had my elf cap
Fixed tight to my head;
As I approached the zombie gathering
With fear and with dread.
They stood there and waited
Gore stuck in their teeth;
As I crept up toward them
As neat as a thief.
I stood there before them
And sang Oh, Christmas Tree;
Though each inch of my body
Wanted to flee.
They smiled and shuffled
They burped and passed gas;
But no mattered how hard I tried
They would not let me pass.
I settled in and gave them
The show of the year;
Grinning and smiling
In spite of my fear.
Their bellies were hungry
But the carols were soothing;
Even if my neighbors’ bones
They were chomping and toothing.
I wasn’t afraid
Oh no sir, not me;
I sang without falter
I sang loud… with glee.
I knew I’d be safe
From this living dead throng;
At least until I came
To the very last song…
About the Author:
Rusty Fischer
Rusty Fischer is a professional freelance writer who lives in sunny Florida with his beautiful wife, Martha. They enjoy riding bikes, long, leisurely walks on the beach, romantic dinners and zombie movies; lots and lots of zombie movies! (Well, Rusty does, anyway!)
Rusty’s new book, Zombies Don’t Cry, will be available from Medallion Press in May of 2011. In the meantime, check out www.medallionpress.com/blurbs/zombie_cry.html for updates and blurbs as the publication date nears.