poor lazarus, remixed into a sonnet
the sheriff told the deputy to go
find lazarus, poor lazarus, alive
or dead – oh lord! oh lord! – get lazarus
and when they found him, strung him up between
two mountains with his head held high, oh lord,
they shot him in the chest – oh lord! – with great
big great big forty-five that banged so loud
might scare him dead. they dragged poor lazarus
to town, they dragged his body to the prom-
issory gathrin’, people terrified
these lawmen draggin’ him with stallions, great
big men that left him on the porch, oh lord!
his mother sang “i’ve never seen a sign
like this one, lord! my son! my only son!”
