Three Days in a Row

Three Days in a Row

Three days in a row of

visits to physicians like

Jesus in the grave from

Friday till resurrection, he

got shots of cortisone in

each elbow on day one

for bursitis with twelve

hours in hell that same

day with Jesus when

Jesus preached to and

baptized the dead and he

was in colonoscopy prep-

aration and couldn’t even

concentrate on what Jesus

was saying because he had

to run to the John every

twenty minutes for hours.

 

The actual exam on day two

was a piece of Angel’s food

cake in the Devil’s lair as he

said to the doc just before

slipping into sweet sleep,

“Go gently into that good

hole.”

 

On day three, the allergist

made the sign of the cross

metaphorically on his chest

with the stethoscope and pro-

nounced him healed. He got

up off the table, folded the

linens neatly as his Dutch

mother had taught him and

walked out into the ninety-

five degree daylight and won-

dered if he was still in hell

only a bright one. Jesus

was standing just outside the

door waiting for him. Jesus

had just finished speaking

with Mary Magdalene, who

had, initially, mistaken Jesus for

the gardener, but the real gardener

was enjoying a siesta with some

other Hispanic laborers. Mary

then had run to tell the other

disciples (many of whom looked

very Hispanic themselves being

Middle Eastern and would probably

need papers if they ever made it to

Arizona, which also is hot as hell

this time of year) that Jesus was alive.

 

He asked, “What about me? After all,

I folded my linens just like your Jewish

mother Mary had taught you to do.”

Jesus just looked at him querulously

and said, “Don’t fear.  I’ll put a good

word in for you.”

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