Baby Jesus Overwhelms Virgin Mary
Months after the birth of Jesus Christ, Mary and Joseph are settling into parenthood at their small house in Nazareth. Mary contemplates Joseph as he planes a rail for Jesus’ bed and admits aloud the Son of God is pushing her to her limits. The boy cannot yet walk but speaks fluent Aramaic and wants to talk about nothing but ethics, religion, and God. Jesus has figured out that the census is a tax tool for Rome and says he doesn’t think his mother and Joseph should have headed down to Bethlehem so close to her time, especially because they had no prearranged accommodations. He has forgiven them, but Mary adds, He forgives everybody for everything. Before Joseph can respond, Jesus tells his mother, Just go with it.
.
Prenup
Gabe and his girlfriend, Meriam, are about
to get married, but before they do, his future
father-in-law suggests a prenuptial agreement
because Meriam owns a condo and Gabe,
although it’s paid for, has only a 1976 Dodge Dart.
They hire an attorney they call Horseface,
but there’s no room here for that story.
Her document pleases Meriam’s father, although
he is not one of the people getting married. Part
of the agreement is about windfalls and winnings.
Gabe reads the paragraph carefully and decides
That from now on, the money he squirrels away
at lunch is his secret, and the current PowerBall ticket
will always be tucked under the platform in his shoe.
.
Angioplasty
A cardiac surgeon snakes a micro digital
camera attached to a horse-hair thin wire through
a blood vessel in my wrist, up into my heart,
so he can mitigate the hardening of my arteries.
While he is in there, I want him to look around
at nearly eighty years of heart history. Maybe
he will find Bible verses, poems, the Preamble to
the United States Constitution and the Bill of Rights.
I knew them all by heart. There should be some
phone numbers for places I lived as a kid and for
past lovers. The camera might see the driver’s
license number I’ve had for sixty-one years. My
late wife should be in there, who I told our kids we
would keep in our hearts forever. My parents are
probably there too, as well as my living family
and friends. But this is a maintenance call. There
is a tiny roto-rooter gizmo mounted beside
the camera that will grind away plaque,
clots, and hopefully, the hate that holds
so many things we love, hostage, and
also, if possible, regret.
© Ron Lauderbach
Ron Lauderbach is a San Diego poet who writes to tell stories, entertain, and preserve memories. He has an MFA from San Diego State University and work in several journals and newspapers. His chapbook, Snapshots, is out from Kelsay Books.
The Loch Raven Review 