vulgo aristocracy, oh vulture
why so scorned? You sit patiently at the roadside
turning your ropey throat
now to the saguaros, now towards us, in our super-speedsters
and whether it's the desert fox - or us - , you
are the edge. And grin.
We're allowed to disengage
turn off the lights. Cut the cord
smooth the mudguards and off we go