This poem came from the March 1, 2011 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by prompts from minor_architect,
aldersprig, and
siege. It was sponsored by
janetmiles.
The Bumblebug
As the new century stretched out
and Mars and other promised lands
remained stubbornly out of reach,
people began to grumble: "Where's the future
we were supposed to see? Where's my flying car?"
"It's all just a pipe dream,"
said the aeronautics engineer.
"There will probably never be a flying car,
unless Volkswagon somehow manages
to build a Bumblebee.
Five years later, the first Hummel hit the line.
It had a squat black body with bright yellow wings
that buzzed noisily as it took off. Like its namesake,
it should not have been able to fly,
but it did.