the farmhouse

I waited for you
in the farmhouse
marking 48 days
in old crumbling chalk,
preserved ephemeral ruins
communicating to no one
but myself, underground
in the future

I could hear them
droning
down the road
like a swarm of bees

A horrific face
appeared
in the double-paned window
moaning something
about salvation
and "wanting to help"
without specifying whom

I yelled that they could shovel
the horse manure
that I never quite got to
but they said they wanted
to use it
for fertilizer
instead

Zombies know
better than most
that when they come to the door
it's almost always
a trick
to take a selfie
with you
to tell their friends
they rehabilitated you

So you start to retreat
to a farmhouse
and get in a hole
with dwindling resources
hoping they'll move on
to find the next undead fool