HATE POEM TO ELON MUSK,
OR,
JUST WHAT IS IT YOU WANT TO ACCOMPLISH?
elon,
you want to get so high you leave orbit and save the planet
and are willing to spend millions of other people’s money to do it
you should’ve inhaled younger, elon
you would know that salvation costs $20 and a black n mild wrapper
you would know that space travel costs $10 and a whole day with no obligations
love isn’t free but it can be pretty cheap.
elon, you seem unhappy.
i think you should quit your day job
and become an open mic poet
i think you should sneak soco into coffeeshops
and yell about your manicpixiedream ex
it wouldn’t make you a better person.
but saving the world is difficult, even for a billionaire.
just ask batman.
being a poet is easy. look:
“Gotta sell yr goddam plasma or yr goddam precious hrs just to have a place to sleep + food to eat. no reason for it, just so a dozen guys can shit n gold toilets n shoot $100000 cars into space or work their wage slaves to death in warehouses till the robots take it all over + make them more money till nobody else has a goddam dime n then their $$ won’t be worth shit, at least shit makes stuff grow. they’re gonna blast off then + leave us in the dust, the dusty n gettin dustier planet like capitalist disciples whose word was unheard. I’m still not sure if Jesus was a con artist, or Paul, but if so then at least the world didn’t fall for it. But we fell for Brother Ford, Pope Rand, Saint Rockefeller. We tithed them everything expecting it back tenfold. Ha. They baptized Christ a second time in bloody Benjamins. The fire will be the third baptism, the fulfillment via Amazon. Amen. They think they are escaping, the billionaires escaping the coming apocalypse. But Hell is empty and nothing is emptier than space. What a delicious cosmic joke if interstellar colonization really is impossible, they suck our globe dry in order to escape it only to freeze lonely in the Nada. They won’t even have each other. Too competitive. Can only be one John Galt. Only have their guilt, and what’s left of their fortunes. Gahenna, to me the word sounds like laughter and the sound of static. The Voyager singing solo, the last job automated at last.”
elon, i wrote that on a napkin coming down from acid.
it’s not great but i bet someone will like it.
it’s not a submarine but at least it kinda works.
it won’t save anyone but nobody asked it to.
just like the world didn’t ask you.
TC Kody lives in Orlando. Their work has been published in Dream Pop, Voicemail Poems, NAILED Magazine, Button Poetry, and many others. They are a Best of the Net Nominee. TC’s echapbook “Short Poems in the Voice of Birds” is available from L’Ephemere Press. More of their work is at tckody.com.