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…