Published Monthly

From the Editor (June 2005)
by Michael Haislip and The Zombified Reanimated Corpse of William Wordsworth

Hi, there. I’m the zombified, reanimated corpse of William Wordsworth. You may know me from such works as “Song for the Wandering Jew” and “To a Butterfly.” Thanks to the dark arts of necromancy, I’ve been revived by the staff of AntiMuse to spread the gospel--the gospel of iambic pentameter!

It’s true. I was a stuffy, 19th-century poet who needed to get laid like nobody’s business. Then I died. The next thing I knew, I was standing in sub-level 13 of the AntiMuse compound, slightly perplexed and craving the warm flesh of humans! Well, I quickly learned that the flesh cravings were a side effect of the voodoo magic used to zombify me, and the confusion was caused by the hallucinogenic fungus that grew inside my skull while I was buried.

Michael gave me access to his library of modern poetry, and I was saddened to see that free verse had risen to supremacy. In response, I embarked on a campaign to revive my beloved meter. I began writing everything in iambic pentameter. Really! Here’s my grocery list from last week:

1. a head of bright, spring-green iceberg lettuce
2. a box of crunchy chocolate chip coookies
3. latex prophylactics for da ladiez

For the love of God, was that not beautiful? The pace, meter, rhythm...oh, my dear lord. I urge you to forget this free verse fad. Return to your poetic roots or I will eat your flesh!

The Zombified, Reanimated Corpse of William Wordsworth

The zombified, reanimated corpse of William Wordsworth will eat your flesh and write beautiful verse about it.


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