Steve Jobs is dead.
The passion,
the wonder,
the intuition,
the drive,
all gone.
There will be echoes,
his razor sharp influence
rebounding across the world of the living,
each reflection more diffuse,
finally a fading note.
That is the moment
you should make sure you have
close at hand
a shotgun and a shovel,
if you want to survive.
Because my friends, I tell you
as sure as entropy,
It is coming:
The Steve Jobs Zombie Apocalypse
Questing for the brains
they need for sustenance,
they shuffle towards you,
what remains of their arms
outstretched.
All of them transformed into evil
flesh eating zombies
by a demon in their own minds,
the ghostly image of Steve Jobs.
Sincere flattery
begets wave after wave
of creeping corruption.
Torn blue jeans
moldy black turtlenecks
rotting mouths
frozen in mocking smiles.
They all walk alike,
almost looking human,
but radiating malice.
They will leave a trail of destruction,
and broken humanity,
if we do not stop them
right now.