Our maths teacher is a zombie
His name is Mr Grave
He’s got eyes the colour of murder
And nobody misbehaves.
The government employed him
When the dead rose from the ground
Get them off the welfare bill
The angry PM frowned.
But zombies like to eat our flesh
And that just what he did
From year one to year six
He gnawed upon the kids.
The headmaster tried to sack him
What else could he do?
But Mr Grave ate his P45
And a year four prefect too
The staff room was in uproar
What if they were next?!
They gathered round a Bunsen burner
And boiled up a hex.
Mr Pipette the science teacher
Was to be the fleshy bait
Drinking down the poison
Then waiting for his fate
He was eaten in the science lab
With a side order of rat
Mr Grave gave a mighty belch.
And tucked into a cat.
The poison was inside him
shooting through his veins
An ear fell off and then a foot
Out his nostrils came his brain
But the walking dead are hardy folk
And practically astute
So he wrapped himself in masking tape
from mouldy head to boot.
But just when he was feeling safe
He realised he’d been silly
Of all the things to forget to tape
How could he forget his willy!
- So What If Poetry Is Dead? (elizabethkateswitaj.net)
- Replacing Urban Decay with a Zombie Apocalypse Theme Park (wholesalehalloweencostumes.com)
- Why are Zombies Everywhere? (costumediscounters.com)