Zombies of the Ancient Cornbread

Lashing out at a mad man
A mad zombie
A central brained man of antique wisdom
Castle of means and ways
They live on the near hill
Tell them they must come out
There are people here
They bring the sweet tea over
And lay it near an ancient date tree
It is only a short time until the pond is ready
Go have a picnic on the creek
Forget about the old cornbread on your mind
Those other poets are long gone
They were only made of cardboard anyway
When it rained, they turned back into wasp spit.