The electric flow is again sparse,
So, we all share the load,
The crisis’ real, not a farce.
Shall I believe all that I’m told?
That juice is supposed to be stowed,
Proof is in some mathematical model,
Still, my ‘lectric car might be towed,
Ideas were braked, omitting the throttle.
Power, I’m told, is from sun and breeze,
And, yes, talk of carbon sequester,
‘Tho mildew and mold do not please,
Nor cave-dwelling again, like my ancestor.
Oh, yes, the burden must be shared,
‘cause the power seems so sparse,
The voices sincere, but answers spared.
No one says this is a farce.
No cash value to this buffoonery,
No talk of borrowing, nor usury.
Francis Conlon is a retired and recovering teacher. For the past 20 years, he has worked as a seasonal river ranger and boat inspector at Yampa River State Park in northwest Colorado. He has published in the local Valley Voice and in Westward Quarterly. He currently lives in Salt Lake City, Utah.