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.”