A Second Sting

Woke up to smell the roses cut myself upon stem thorns sharpened protective preservation selfishness bleeding blood bleeding life life sustaining streams dripping sap risen barbs sharpen hungering foliage continuance the scent of sweet roses is but an alluring amorous bait. Lilies colourless purchased puritans also have genetically attained a deadened smell in morgue slab meat mannequin laid out funeral parlours fat rolled choice cigars baked overdone luscious juicy joints will not rise a redeemed Lazaus to dropp dead a second time. Lilies are Victorian gowns neck tight collars sudden yellow tongued mesmeric eulogies gossiping trumpeting bee buzzing sermons curtained days death knelled behold new prone lay figure subjugated judgments silently abound. Copyright © Terence George Craddock John 12: 1-2. “Accordingly Jesus, six days before the Passover, arrived at Bethnay, where Lazarus was whom Jesus had risen up from the dead. Therefore they spread an evening meal for him there, and Martha was ministering, but Lazarus was one of those reclining at the table.”