Zombie Rot

Shambling corpses,
The kind nightmares made,
Should reek like real zombies,
Rotting and decayed;
Like bloated, dead pigs
Exploding in summer heat,
Cascading wet organs and
Maggot-infested meat;
Like a dead opossum
Stuck beneath the house,
Covered in squirming,
Noisily munching louse;
Like a newly deceased person
Releasing excrement from bowels;
Like the heavy, musty scent
Of a still-wet load of towels;
Like body odor, magnified,
Sour and yet somehow sweet;
Like chunks of curdled milk
Dribbling from withered teats;
Like egg-scented vomit,
Chunks of food within,
Warm, wet, and foul,
With a sharp, sulfurous tinge;
Like a hearty belch
After eating devilled eggs,
Or the resulting thick, gaseous odor
Eking up the back of your legs;
Like asparagus urine,
Strong and overpowering,
Leeching normal scents
In a rancid, blissful scouring.
Shambling corpses,
Rotting and decayed,
Reek like real zombies,
The kind nightmares made.