B- Messiah Tricks

Messiah Tricks

Be alarmed.
The person sitting next to you is not a leper.
I repeat.
You are not in the immediate vicinity of any lepers.
That sexy girl with the cute tattoos of butterflies that passes you
everyday on your way to wherever it is you go
She does not have leprosy.
The elitist with the soul-patch who stares at you condescendingly from
behind the Kinko's counter
He will never turn into a leper.
And neither will you.
No matter how hard you try.
If the rat carcasses pile upon the roach carcasses piled upon the
half-empty pizza boxes and soiled underpants that create a second layer
of flooring in your apartment
You will never be unclean.
Not ever.
If you are running from the law,
Do not expect to dive into the sanctuary of a leper colony and
sacrifice a limb and a couple yards of skin to escape your
sentence.
Your wrists will stay plenty intact for them to put the cuffs on.
And you'll still have to share your cell.
But don't worry about dropping the soap.
You won't need it.
Because there is a cure.
Rifampicin, dapsone, and clofazimine.
And you will never be a leper.
There will be no leper hockey match with a face off in the
corner.
No lepers will have play hockey again.
No lepers will ask you for bread.
Lepers will no longer need to print their own currency.
No dollar you handle will give you leprosy.
That guy about to buy you a drink, pretty lady
Be suspicious of him.
He's not a leper.
There is no hope of it.
The lepers will not rise against us.
Forge an apocalypse.
Leave us roaming to feast on each other.
The lepers can neither be enslaved.
The lepers are gone.
So I ask you
How will we know when Jesus has come back?