ode to the cybertruck (derogatory)

brick of stainless steel and big ugly

tires, symbol of status i fail to understand

the desire to claim, invention of man

hailed as a genius only by fools—

you don't belong in a street space

outside a redbrick brownstone, but it's hard

to say where i'd place you instead.

perhaps the la brea tar pits, sinking

into sludge like a dying mammoth. or maybe

i'll travel back in time and park you

at the edge of mount vesuvius, days

before its destruction of pompeii. i’ll never

call twitter X in the same way i wouldn’t

dream of stringing a tesla fob to my key

chain, in the same way i groan when

someone brings up the so-called success

of your inventor, and no, not just

because i am loathe to ever give a man

any credit. forget the fact that at sixty

miles per hour, you’d slice my civic

in half, that it’d cost me four years of selling

myself to the machine just to walk up

to your driver side door and sit inside

you—no, i just don’t like you.