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
THE CORONA CRUCIFIXION
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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