I’ve long been obsessed with zombies—any post-apocalyptic story has me in its corner. I started young, reading The Stand by Stephen King when I was about 14. Probably the same year, I read Robert R. McCammon’s Swan Song. Before both of those was the great 80’s hit Night of the Comet. When I Am Legend came out, I went to the movies to see it. Alone. I hadn’t been to the movies alone in years. I’m not sure what the fascination was, but I feel the need to confess: there’s something about the end of the world, about being the only human—or one of the only humans—left on the world that makes me store a lot of food in my basement.
The biggest thing that struck me when I saw I Am Legend was the vulnerable sharing that Will Smith’s character Robert Neville does with the mannequins in the video store. The pure lack of human interaction is haunting. I consider myself a fairly social person, who likes to talk to other people. So in a world in which there’s no one to speak back to me, I would be one of the first to listen to the voices in my subconscious mind.
So as I have just finished watching the last episode of The Walking Dead for the next six months, and the coincidence/karma/world spirits have started their spring whispers, I am going to attempt to have a poetry month plan:
1. Read three books of poetry a week
2. Write three poems a week
3. Write three blog posts a week
The blog is a zombie itself, and to keep it from taking over my brain stem, I’d better grab a pair of pliers by my toes and free myself by dispatching it. I am nothing without the poets around me, especially those who read and teach their contemporaries, so I am making time. As far as the poems go, well, duh. It’s National Poetry Month. Which means those who dare, write it. I dare you, too.