JONAH WINTER
Jesus Christ walked out the door.
He stood on the porch of the Marshal’s
Office
and surveyed the
street with His beady blue eyes.
It was empty.
A burly man approached.
Are you Jesus? he
asked.
Supposin’ I am? Jesus
answered,
characteristically, with a question.
The burly man collapsed into endless space
–
a sort of black
hole.
Zero volume, infinite mass, Jesus said
into a little portable
tape recorder.
Then Jesus began His walk down
It was too quiet.
Jesus’s hands swung by His
side, ready now
for the quick draw.
From His black Stetson hat to His lizard
skin boots
Jesus Christ was 100% man.
He had a huge, sweeping moustache.
He could split a card in half with one
bullet.
Mornin’ Jesus, a voice
said.
Jesus let His eyes alone move in the
direction of the voice.
It was Doc Holliday.
He was packin’ a
piece.
Jesus shook His head no.
Holliday’s smile faded.
Jesus, well, He just kept on walkin’
down the long, empty
street.
Barbara Streisand and Jesus Christ are
having coffee.
Jesus is finishing a long story:
…so when I got home –
everyone was sleeping! – ha ha ha
ha ha ha
ha ha…
Barbara smiles and signals the waiter for
the check.
Jesus gets up to go to the Men’s room.
The Idea of Beauty comes over and sits down
in Jesus’s chair.
Howdy ma’am says the Idea of Beauty.
I’m the Idea of Beauty.
Any questions you’d like to ask me
‘fore I lose my
corporeal manifestations?
Jesus returns,
tucking His shirt in.
Can I help you, pardner,
Jesus drawls
eyeing the Idea of Beauty
suspiciously.
Help me with what?
says the Idea of
Beauty, snickering.
Well let’s see says Jesus, stroking His
beard,
for starters, you
could get the hell out of my seat.
Suddenly a stage is lit up.
There’s Barbara, in sequined evening dress,
her mouth wide open,
but no sound coming
out.
God flips shut the Venetian blinds,
returns to his desk,
pushes the play button on
a miniature tape recorder
and begins his
dictation:
Sign Jesus up for some golf lessons.
End all pestilence, wars, suffering, etc.
Go to bed earlier.
Play solitaire less.
GOD
God walks into a room
in which a woman is
buying a set of encyclopedias.
Just as she’s about to sign a check for
$3,000,
God clears his throat, conspicuously.
Later, over linguine with white clam sauce,
God and the woman have a good laugh.
That was close! God says.
Don’t I know it! says
the woman. Thanks!