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    Aim For the Head
    Aim For the Head
    Aim For the Head
    Ebook202 pages1 hour

    Aim For the Head

    By Rob Sturma

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    About this ebook

    A cross-section of some of the best contemporary poets from the stage and the page rise up and shamble their way through an anthology of post-apocalyptic zombie poetry. Funny, creepy, shocking, and even poignant, this collection challenges award winning authors like Scott Woods, Laura Yes Yes, and Khary Jackson to shake the dust off of old conventions, pull the triggers on their imaginations, and...Aim For The Head.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherWrite Bloody Publishing
    Release dateMar 4, 2015
    ISBN9781935904489
    Aim For the Head
    Author

    Rob Sturma

    ROB STURMA is the editor of Aim For The Head, the zombie-themed poetry anthology on Write Bloody Publishing (as seen in the New York Times and Time Magazine Online), and the online pop culture journal FreezeRay. His work can be seen in a number of print anthologies and online at The Nervous Breakdown, Borderline, Ghost House Review, Indiefeed, and a million social media sites. He lives in Oklahoma City, OK, where he co-hosts the Red Dirt Wayward Poets open mic and stays nerdy.

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      Book preview

      Aim For the Head - Rob Sturma

      Aim for the Head

      a collection of poetry

      Derrick C. Brown & Rob Sturma, Editors

      Write Bloody Publishing

      America’s Independent Press

      Long Beach, CA

      writebloody.com

      Copyright © Derrick C. Brown & Rob Sturma 2011

      No part of this book may be used or performed without written consent from the author, if living, except for critical articles or reviews.

      Brown, Derrick C.

      Sturma, Rob.

      1st edition.

      ISBN: 978-1-935904-47-2

      Interior Layout by Lea C. Deschenes

      Cover Designed by Bill Jonas

      Cover Art by David Ayllon

      Interior Illustrations by Leigh White and Freedom Drudge

      Proofread by Jennifer Roach

      Edited by Derrick Brown and Rob Sturma

      Re-loaded by Rob Sturma

      Type set in Bergamo from www.theleagueofmoveabletype.com

      Special thanks to Lightning Bolt Donor, Weston Renoud

      Printed in Tennessee, USA

      Write Bloody Publishing

      Long Beach, CA

      Support Independent Presses

      writebloody.com

      To contact the author, send an email to writebloody@gmail.com

      Daphne Gottlieb’s fifteen ways to stay alive appears courtesy of special permission by Manic D Press

      John Paul Davis’s The Zombie, Rejected By His Human Lover, Responds first published by Cordite Poetry Review

      Aim for the Head

      George Romero Never Lied to Us

      by Ryk McIntyre

      The dignity of zombie movies has always been the harsh face

      we are shown of ourselves. The dead will always be the same:

      equal parts hunger and will. They will always be conspicuous

      consumption. We have changed. We don’t fear the graveyard

      as much as chemical spills. Don’t listen for the Houngan drums,

      it is the laboratory reports that are twined with magic programs,

      reanimation cyphers; perfectly sterile, untouched by human hands

      or even a single voice asking why. No wonder so many movies

      begin in hospitals and research facilities. The sound of lab glass

      breaking has devoured the thud-thud-shhhh of dirt being dug

      from underneath. We have come so far in the future, we’ve flown

      to the moon. But it’s still the grave that claims our dreams, and feeds

      us fear of being eaten alive. We could upload our individual death

      on Youtube. It would be karmic justice on American terms: no worries

      that God will call you home entirely. Pieces of us will walk forever.

      Tanka: Yet Another Poem

      About the Zombie Apocalypse Part 1

      by Curtis X Meyer

      That day—when at last

      the zombie apocalypse

      arrives —fuck the mall.

      I’m going where I know it’s

      deserted: the library.

      Fifteen Ways to Stay Alive

      by Daphne Gottlieb

      1.    Offer the wolves your arm only from the elbow down. Leave tourniquet space. Do not offer them your calves. Do not offer them your side. Do not let them near your femoral artery, your jugular. Give them only your arm.

      2.    Wear chapstick when kissing the bomb.

      3.    Pretend you don’t know English.

      4.    Pretend you never met her.

      5.    Offer the bomb to the wolves. Offer the wolves to the zombies.

      6.    Only insert a clean knife into your chest. Rusty ones will cause tetanus. Or infection.

      7.    Don’t inhale.

      8.    Realize that this love was not your trainwreck, was not the truck that flattened you, was not your Waterloo, did not cause massive hemorrhaging from a rusty knife. That love is still to come.

      9.    Use a rusty knife to cut through most of the noose in a strategic place so that it breaks when your weight is on it.

      10.  Practice desperate pleas for attention, louder calls for help. Learn them in English, French, Spanish: May Day, Aidez-Moi, Ayúdeme.

      11.  Don’t kiss trainwrecks. Don’t kiss knives. Don’t kiss.

      12.  Pretend you made up the zombies, and only superheroes exist.

      13.  Pretend there is no kryptonite.

      14.  Pretend there was no love so sweet that you would have died for it, pretend that it does not belong to someone else now, pretend like your heart depends on it because it does. Pretend there is no wreck—you watched the train go by and felt the air brush your face and that was it. Another train passing. You do not need trains. You can fly. You are a superhero. And there is no kryptonite.

      15.  Forget her name.

      Gifts For the Dead at Christmas

      by Andy Buell

      blankets

      worm repellent

      a haircut

      a manicure

      a new suit to wear

      pictures of who I grew into

      letters to reintroduce myself

      Apologies for not shedding tears when I heard the news. I promise you it was only because I didn’t understand, years later it was the fermented spirits that held them back.

      Tape recordings of my voice,

      telling you how the bath felt

      in the tub I still don’t fit into,

      I watched reflections of a savior

      circle the drain for hours.

      Reminders that you will never

      have to deal with traffic again.

      Finally waving goodbye

      with my eyes open.

      Leaving Ashlee

      by John Andrews

      in another life

      your stomach hangs

      with weight from our children

      we are slow dancing

      the kitchen is on fire

      we don’t turn

      our heads

      watch it burn

      in this one

      your stomach hangs

      the weight of what could have been

      I left you

      on the front porch

      shackled to a column

      legs folded underneath

      blood flowering out

      your mouth

      a hunger I could

      never feed

      Citizenship Test for the UUSA

      (United Undead States of America)

      (data compiled by Rachelanne Williams)

      Before continuing to the knowledge test, please fill out these identification questions. (We will not share any of your information with outside parties)

      FULL NAME:*

      *If you cannot remember your full name due to the passage of time and deterioration of the brain, please make one up and carve it somewhere on your existing flesh so that you might remember it. Should you be accepted as a citizen, dog tags

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