Shall I compare thee to a Ferrari?
Thou art more quiet and more ludicrous
Loud sounds do shake the Italian, I see
And even leased hath all too tall a cost.
Sometime too hot the mid engine runs
And often is his eight cylinders garaged
And every bump to bump hits on the buns
By then, the driver’s backside so barraged.
But thy four-door comfort shall not pain
Nor lose possession of that juice thou pourest
Nor shall oil brag thou to it is chained
When in market share in time thou grow’st
So long as men can drive, or eyes can see
So long drives this, on electricity.
– the EV Poet
(with sincere apologies to the Bard)
EV Poetry 