not how it works

she wants a clean
jesus. an uncut
savior in white
linen, two feet off
the ground. she
wants a superman,
a man of steel,
a christ without
the suffering, or
blood, the anguish
of the passion.
she wants him off
the cross and in
the clouds, no
crown of thorns, no
death, no why
have you forsaken
me spoken as the
viel is rent and the
earth broken in
two. she wants a
statue of christ
on the dashboard,
one that glows in
the dark, she wants
no sickness, no
sorrow, no sadness
in this world. but
that's not how
it works, is it?