Riding Shotgun in Tehran

a Poem by Joe Garvey, Architecht of the House of Fireborn

In Tehran’s haze, I spin above the spires,

Ebbster rides a Falcon like a Persian ghost on the wind,

times a changin’ in vacuum, no more roads, just thrust & spin.

I? you ask…people’s poet, laughs from the factory floor,

“Build the damn truck, son,” Elon growls while the cyber hounds roar.

Starship blooms like Persian fire over the Strait of Hormuz,

Neuralink threads the skull of the world, one spark, one fuse.

Bob Dylan strums the void: “How many launches must a man endure

before you call him hero?” I answer, pure.

My quill welds the chassis, sweat & steel and Mars dust,

this grin cuts the blackout, cracking God’s own crust.

From Tehran rooftops I see the fleet, electric thunder rolling,

Tesla herds the future home while the old world keeps on strolling.

I, the poet of all poets tip my cap to the kid from Pretoria,

blitzed I crown him king of the sky, Dylan, Cash, and the gloria.

Fifteen lines of rocket psalm, k holes holy & true.

Jeff Bezos, you glorious fool, the stars belong to you.

www.HouseofFireBorn.com