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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required The Living Dream It began with a Chinese jeep selling cheaply I told Elon Musk not to get me, Tesla But he didn't answer my message I went to bed early, forgoing my usual Two glasses of red wine I had a stern warning from my brother's Youngest, if I were addicted to wine I could buy tablets at the pharmacy Polite as I am, I didn't tell him to off At 87, I do as I please. What can one say of a man who spends the best years of his life, going from cafe to cafe eating a vast amount of cream cakes. Suddenly I was a ladies' man, sired 12 children and died at 104, at last a folk hero Later, Elon Musk knocked on my door Someone had broken into his bank He had his money stolen, and he likes to sit in the evenings counting, one million, two million, three It took eighteen trucks Since he was always kind enough to let I publish poems on his X and ensuring I had five readers a week I let him sleep on the sofa in the living room Told me people were out to kill him and Trump, Trump, I could understand, but Elon! More knocking on the door, in the hall 8 of Elon's bodyguards, he hadn't paid them They could not be loyal without money Elon got up from the sofa and promised to pay them on Monday, with that, the men in Dark suits and sunglasses were left Behind by Elon With them, he wore an ill-fitting T-shirt making him look working class Elon told me that Netanyho had fled In Israel, people had found him a criminal I found that less than likely He was hiding in the basement of the new ballroom, at the West Wing in the White House To save money, Trump had used migrant untrained workers, the floor collapsed And that was the end of Netanyho Free from his nightmare, Trump became mild-mannered caring for all Americans His new manners were disliked by Elon, who saw in Trump a fellow humorist they liked to tell each other dormitory jokes Then it was 8 in the morning, time to get up
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