The Zombie Wars...

Blinking against the early morning sun, he is

Wearing black skinny jeans, fading knees
And shredding at the heel, worn sneakers and a
Gray slouching sweatshirt, the Indians cap molding his hair

Carrying three pristine and pointy number two pencils,
A brand new eraser, 2 granola bars and
3 clementines for snack time, a
Graphing calculator with new batteries, loaded and tested

Nervous, I'm a drill sergeant:
Did you eat?  Do you have? Are you sure?
My not-so-little guy zombies his way
toward the SAT testing center,
Hundreds of others, in uniform, shuffle with him,
their first foray into the college entry wars.
Atten-Hut! Forward march!