Last Supper by David J. Thompson

When I heard there was going to be a last supper
for Jesus, I figured he was finally getting married
to one of those Mary chicks that was always hanging
around him. One, I think, was that guy Lazarus’ sister,
the other was the slutty good looking one. So, I thought
I was coming to a bachelor party with a stripper
and plenty of coke in the men’s room, but, no,
when I got there and sat down at the long table
with the regular gang, everybody was real serious.
Dinner was your usual rubbery chicken and rice –
I kept looking around for the bar or a keg –
but had to make do with the little bit of wine
they were passing around. When we finished dessert,
a strawberry parfait kind of thing, Jesus filled
up a terrine with water and went down the table
washing everybody’s feet. I was just about screaming
for a shot of Cuervo Gold and a beer chaser
because it seemed to be fucking taking forever,
when Peter and Jesus start talking at the other end
of the table  about something I could barely hear,
so I went back to nibbling the little wafer that came
with the parfait and discretely checking my phone messages.
The next thing I know, Jesus was yelling louder
than I’d ever heard him about being betrayed, so I leaned
over in front of me real far and saw Jesus dip some bread
into the water pitcher and hand it to Judas, the one guy
in our regular gang that I never really liked anyway.
Then came this sort of long uncomfortable silence,
and next you could see some of the guys getting up
from the table, murmuring about having to get home
to the wife and kids or going to the Buffalo Wild Wings
down the road to watch some baseball on tv.
Out in the parking lot as we all said good-bye,
I remember Jesus saying how much he hoped
everybody had had a really good evening,
how he was glad to get home early tonight
because he had some longs days ahead.
He promised he’d see us again sometime,
but he didn’t say exactly when.

david-j-thompson
David J. Thompson grew up in Hyde Park, New York, and currently lives in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. His latest poetry/photography chapbook, A World Without Horses, is available on Kindle. Please visit his photo website at ninemilephoto.com.
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