Electric Jesus Poem by Patti Masterman

There's an electric Jesus on the Boulevard;
Pale robes, with light-blushed neon cheeks,
Arms outstretched- can you help him please?

In the antique shop, a cigar store Son
Of man- whose time's been over-done;
And all the tears from ringed eyes wrung.

And even when his face is missing,
Are crucifix or angels kissing, his mother's crown
Like a gem'd tiara, sits on top a flaming aura.

Give us Jesu, is all we ask; and a face-lift- and a perky ass-
In your name, let it come to pass-
Are poufy lips, too much to ask?

Jesus nods on the Caddy's dash
While well-dressed Preacher's plead for cash-
Their wives need breast implants- and fast.

Jesus gentle, mild and meek;
Didn't you realize who would seek
Your aid and care, on this old ball:

The lowly ones- for them, you fall-
Your purple heart, pierced by a spear-
You're getting much too old, I fear.