Editor’s Note: Don’t get us wrong, we are as obsessive as any TWD fans. But let others pontificate at length. In our view, the show’s narrative conflict is so essential—living vs. undead, civility vs. anarchy, prey vs. predator—that it demands to be distilled in the purest form possible. What better serves that purpose than haiku?
Season 4, Episode 3: “Isolation”
Tyreese is angry.
Girlfriend incinerated.
Lashes out at Rick.
Sasha has the “flu.”
So does half the prison camp.
Good guys turned walkers?
“It’s just allergies!”
protests Woodbury lady.
Quarantine for her.
Sure, Hershel’s a vet.
But diagnoses symptoms
and prescribes pet meds.
Wandering in woods,
Hershel and Carl meet walkers
but leave them undead.
Hershel’s a healer;
makes elderberry potion.
Says, “I can save lives.”
Rick turns detective.
Once a cop, always a cop.
Who killed the sick folks?
Daryl, Michonne, with
Tyreese and that other guy
Head out to get drugs.
Daryl-Carol? Meh.
Crossbow, Samurai sword? Hot!
Michonne better match.
The hills are alive
with the sound of walker horde.
Geez! Where’d they come from?
Tyreese wields hammer.
Every walker is a nail
if that’s all you got.
Meanwhile, back at camp
Rick is figuring things out.
Has a prime suspect.
Yup, Carol did it.
She killed infected people.
For the greater good?