The radio exploded like a thousand times before With the banal boring banter of the morning dj wars The sunlight seeped between the slats which never fully close He negotiated pathways through the piles of dirty clothes She didn't stir didn't see the look of disgust That the years had hewn into his face Without memory of the prior moment he was out the door Numbed by the motor and the music which could barely reach him now He knew he was a victim but could not identify The crimes which had put his dreams to rest Resignation was so effortless and criterion By which he joined the walking dead There was no evening whistle which gave signal to go home But the slowly shuffling masses huddled in the shuttle's drone Toting them to autos which they knew needed to be fixed But functioned as good metaphors broken down but still exist Unconsciously he turned the key didn't ponder the nothingness Which passively he had become Without memory of the day's events he came in through the door And within hours he slept dreamless like a thousand times before He knew he was a victim but could not identify The crimes which had put his dreams to rest Resignation was so effortless and criterion By which he joined the walking dead