He cups my head and tells me I’ll be fine –
He’s built a cage especially for me.
Of all his loves I am the most divine;
To save my life he would pay any fee.
He tells me dreams – of lightning tamed and caught,
Of mankind magnified by unseen waves,
And something else, enshrined in loving thought,
To blast his enemies beyond all graves.
But Nikola no longer musters hosts;
Investors are short-sighted, stunted men –
They doubt his genius, call his visions boasts,
But we know that his star will rise again.
His name will etch the Heavens, scored by nerds
For now he’ll spend his grace on us poor birds.
FR
 |
| Tesla, aged 34, circa 1890. Photo by Napoleon Sarony |
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