Sunday 24 April 2011


What more appropriate story could there be on Zombie Jesus Day (Easter Sunday) than this...

by Nick Gisburne

There are chapters in time, scarce but sweet and sublime,
When our destinies change for the better
It was on such a night, by the luminous light
Of the moon on the mountains I met her

Blessed with venomous grace, and a half-eaten face,
Her proportions were crooked, yet pleasing
Clothing spattered with stains, having hunted for brains
She was drooling and groaning and wheezing

There was blood on her teeth, from the body beneath,
From the veins of a freshly killed victim
She had started to pull at the base of the skull,
Which was split where she’d viciously kicked him

It was love at first sight, and I dreamed that she might
Feel a similar, soulless attraction
So I watched as she fed from the now-severed head,
And I thrilled at her sweet putrefaction

Though her hunger was vast, she was sated at last,
And lay back on the motionless torso
From her disfigured hips to those festering lips,
My heart ached for her then even more so

So I reached through my chest and abruptly did wrest
Through the ribs my necrotic old ticker
Though corrupt with disease, I discharged with a squeeze
Any lingering poisons or ichor

With my worm-ridden heart came a wish to impart
Passions putrid as each grisly tumour
And this organic waste, tough and toxic to taste,
Showed my helpless desire to consume her

Her eyes swivelled to mine for the very first time,
Black and bloodshot, but still in their sockets
When her leprous lids blinked, I responded, but winked,
For my spare eye was lost in my pockets

She clutched tight at my heart and bit into a part
Of the succulent, scabrous aorta
Hers were cancerous teeth - two above, three beneath -
Plainly perfect for ripping and slaughter

Steeped in sickness and death, tainted meat gave her breath
An alluring, malodorous foetor
I was dizzy with lust as a congealing crust
Of my heart blood grew thick on her sweater

I could see her succumb as she licked out the scum
From a ventricle, raw from dissection
And we both of us knew what we wanted to do
When she’d swallowed the final infection

She was shy and remote, for her delicate throat
Had been cut by a struggling stranger
But I beckoned her near, re-attached her loose ear,
And gave promise that I’d never change her

It was then that we kissed, though we both had to twist,
For our limbs were diseased and distorted
Swapping spittle and blood, we fell down in the mud,
Our vain efforts to stand soon aborted

From the dank disrepair of my pox-ridden hair,
She tore clumps with a sensuous vigour
For this ghoul, I confess, grunts were hard to suppress,
And her filth made my entrails grow bigger

With a ravenous lust she grew frantic and thrust
Frenzied fingers deep into my belly
It was almost obscene how she ripped out my spleen
And compressed it to quivering jelly

And responding, of course, with malevolent force,
I pulled hard on her ulcerous liver
It was rancid and grey, oozing pus and decay,
And the seep of its sores made me shiver

I was lost in her charms as those skeletal arms
Reached around me, my kidneys to cripple
Renal arteries ripped and together we sipped
On a slippery, sulphurous tipple

With the nails of my thumbs I slit open her lungs,
And we rolled in the tar and the cancer
Now astride me, her groans, and the crack of dry bones
As she haemorrhaged, highly enhanced her

On that cannibal night, in the carnage and blight,
Our disgusting devotion grew stronger
We had eaten our fill, and would both be there still
If our smaller intestines were longer

We dismembered till dawn, and the mouldering morn
Found us wrapped in a visceral blanket
Mixing lymph, blood and bile in a mixture most vile,
As a tribute to love we both drank it

Vital organs we’d shared, so we hunted and snared
Two unwilling but generous donors
And my love was now blessed with a silicone chest,
Which for both of us came as a bonus

If there’s ever a chance for a taste of romance,
Find a zombie and woo her and wed her
Ever hungry she’ll stay, but there’s no easy way
To find someone who’s stronger or deader

She’s the love of my life, my insatiable wife,
And we shuffle in curious manner
On our victims we feed, and together we bleed
She has eaten my heart - Zombrianna

The full text of Zombrianna can also be found on my DeviantArt page.
Stock image used in this video:
Marcus Ranum -