Once upon a morning rainy, Jane was munching on a brainy
Grad student from UCLA, dreaming zombie dreams galore.
While Jane swallowed, calmly blinking, suddenly she starting thinking,
And her spirits started sinking, sinking down upon the floor.
“Is my grammar wrong?” she spluttered, drinking down a glass of Coors.
“ ‘Zomby’ is the singular form.”
If, Jane reasoned, she’d been wrong about the grammar all along
It would take a zomby strong to change her ways, she knew for sure.
Suddenly she threw away the meal that she had once secured;
That was it! Jane knew, a cure—a cure that would at last ensure—
Humans could be safe from zombies; at least one zomby could be pure—
And her name was Jane F. Moore.
Jane became a vegetarian after consulting a librarian
Who suggested cauliflower (she went by the name Lenore).
Then, Jane found, her gums were stronger; her eyesight too extended farther.
Carrots, broccoli, and eggplant! Why had she not tried these before?
Other zombies had to know that veggie zombies could restore
A sense of life without the gore!
Jane decided she would shamble, arms out in front as she ambled,
Telling zombies they could turn from brains (and eat them nevermore).
As she grunted and she gabbled to the gathered zomby rabble,
Bony hands scratched rotting chins (some fingers landed on the floor);
It seemed that Jane might not convince them ‘til she heard a zomby roar,
“Take us to the grocery store!”
Smiling, Jane lurched off to find a place with veggies of all kinds;
People screamed and ran away, confronted with a zomby hoard.
But these walking dead had eyes for naught but greens to satisfy;
They stuffed their mouths with celery, then turned to Jane: “We need more!”
With this zomby tale completed, our brains are safe forevermore,
Thanks to the brain of Jane F. Moore.