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  • Writer's pictureLiam Carroll

The Corona Crucifixion

Easter's cancelled, sort of, everyone forced to stay put at home, abide by social distancing holy decrees. It seemed an irresistible scenario for re-writing Biblical "history". I hope you like my version of Jesus' farewell gesture.

Happy Easter, pray safe and don't believe everything you read. Peace xo


By Liam Carroll

Jesus said hey, let’s throw a big party

Peter said oh no, that’s not very smarty

We must social distance, stay safe J Dog

Just shut up Peter, ya massive bloody flog

I’m in charge, tell all the boys it’s on

Judas said yeah, sick one, righteous God’s Son

Leave it to me, I’ll go tell all the boys,

Yes indeed, I’ll go tell all the Po Po boys

The bacho pad was set, nice tidy spread

No sense of doom or existential dread

Tuck in lads! Eat my body, drink my blood!

Everyone was relieved the door gave a thud

Oh no, it’s the fuzz! We’re all totally screwed

Jesus said hush now, I know what to do…

Kill Judas, the two-faced prick sold us out!!

They turned on each other, fists flailing about

The Pigs stormed in with swords, shields and masks

Whose party is this now? That’s all we ask

The hipster carpenter stepped forth, I’m your man

I’ll die for my right to party, I don’t give a damn

Sentenced to crucifixion, that seems a tad harsh

Corona is serious Jesus, you ignorant stupid arse

They nailed him to a cross, now walk up that big hill

I’d have a lot more motivation if the streets were filled

To witness the Son of God crucified was deemed non-essential

Father in heaven, do the lawmakers have any credentials?

In rolled thunder bolts and lightning, not very frightening

Jesus’ followers sat safe at home, while he suffered quietly

Three days later he rose from the dead, a man resurrected

He roamed the empty streets, but everyone was infected

Not with Kung Flu, something a million, trillion times worse

A belief the State knew best, humanity forever cursed.

*Liam Carroll is the author of Slippery, his debut novel about capitalism on steroids in the world of oil trading. His second novel, Sweet Dreams of Fanta, is a nostalgic romp in time back to the Sydney of 1988, seen through the eyes of a freckly, moon-faced, seven year old chubber, Fanta addict and devoted Balmain Tigers lover.


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