Ode to My Tesla
By Dan Geddes
With apologies to Pablo Neruda and Elon Musk
Oh my Tesla!
How I loved you!
You,
sexy,
sleek as a panther,
the car
of the future.
Me ensconced in your lush
seats,
whipping around town,
silent as a whisper,
fast as a roller
coaster,
console glowing,
no carbon spewing
from your pert rear.
Signalling
sweet righteousness
as we bypass
the noxious gas stations,
the Big Oily oligopoly,
where the
lumpen proletariat
refuel their ICEs
gaping
at the gas pump’s
screen,
their
post-tax dollars
melting
down the drain.
We were Space Age then,
Elon set his marker down,
Launching the first car
into space, as if
planting the Tesla flag
on the moon, waving.
Your key fob is
the Rocket in My Pocket.
Opening your falcon-wing doors,
before the gawking plebs,
I enter you and
I really think
I am Batman.