Jesus
was
one
lucky
SOB,
I say.
Put
me
on
a
cross of
wood, hoist my
busted back up before pilate
ceasar mcarthur ike
whoever
whatever I
would take that anytime before this
crucifixion.
I
can’t
shit
can’t
breathe
can’t
swallow
not one more soapsuds
enema. I
have had my
last supper
and
it tasted
like hell, and
I will choose when I
have the stone pulled over
my tomb.
I’ll have
some
more Vicodin
and please don’t
bother
resurrecting
me
thanks.