Jesus moved to town today. He set up shop in an abandoned brothel. Handing out flyers to passers-by, while his brother doled out the rules. He joined the local chamber of commerce. He paid his taxes like all the rest. Giving back to the community, and going to the little league games. He says that he used to live in Florida. He worked for cheap in an orange grove. Under the glaring Southern sun he labored, until the day he made it out alive. He tells a crazy story about a magic carpet. He says it whisked him away from hell. Soaring high above the citrus trees, he watched in wonder as they disappeared. This dark skinned man surely is insane. There are no magic carpets in Florida. They took him away in the padded wagon, and he went calmly and without a fuss. His brother softly smiled without a word. He showed me the headline from one year ago. "Body of cuban man found today, crushed beneath an orange tree"