two bachelors sat

on a late Sunday morning

in their dimly lit living room

light held back by blinds

dusty, quiet, yellowed

like each one's chair in which they

sat

comfortably

quiet

yellowed.

One was the son of the other

the older with much more lost

a wife, a job, a life,

while the son took care of his mother.

The tv blared louly

on the other side of the room

filling the empty space

with noise

as the kitchen sink filled

with dishes.

Zombies moved through the room

breaking windows,

smashing chairs,

on their black-and-white

television screen.

Only their eyes moved

following the bodies of the living dead.

Much is to be said of

zombies, thought the one.

I need another beer,

said the father of the son,

as they sat

comfortably

quietly

yellowed.

Labels: bachelors, poem, poetry, zombies