What if ?
I think there will come a day
And that day is not far away
When all the world’s gas and its oil
Will dry up underneath the soil.
I was wondering what man would do
When he wakes up to his wife’s ado
When she finds her car won’t start
And has to be pulled like a bullock cart.
Would he go back to riding horses
And go around in things like hearses?
In which case it ‘d be great fun
To imagine how his life is run
Horses would replace cars on driveways
Why! They should then be called rideways
Garage sales shall exist only in tales
As they would be replaced by Stable sales.
Horse carts would be made by Ford
From luxury Lincoln only the rich can afford
To the commonly used Ford Escort
Of which mules shall be a part
There will be different types too
One with one animal, one with two
There ‘d be one with four swift steeds
Which cops shall use to mind our speeds.
Each street would have a hay station
Which ‘d operate in a similar fashion
Customers may buy loads of hay
And swipe their cards in order to pay
They may earn a discount for a cart wash
Or do it in their stables; which could be gauche
There would be cart dealers here and there
No doubt, they would cheat you fair and square.
Fire engines would have engines no more
Each will have horses two times four
Twice that number ‘d be used to propel
Big trucks; Oh! One can easily tell
There ‘d be far less environmental commotion
For horse manure would replace all pollution
And Formula One would be a chariot race
To decide who generates the fastest pace.
All of what I have said
Is true if enough horses are bred
Or man should find another solution
To solve the blasted transport question
He may resort to using bicycles
She may try her luck with tricycles
For women are clumsy, everyone knows
A fact that their driving record also shows.
Its a crime to deny women’s right
Over which they would no doubt fight
They may be finally allowed to bicycle
In remote places devoid of people
A servant would come with each lady’s cycle
Who would help her on to the saddle
At the end of every aborted ride
He would help her back to her stride.
Wobbling wheels would fill the street
Of tingling bells, there’d be a regular beat
Commuting would be a great exertion
That it’d be made part of your profession
Pizza delivery would be a real vexation
You may place an order and go for a vacation
You should really be quite content
To restrict your shopping to a long weekend.
Armies would not have any more tanks
To provide assistance in the flanks
Tricycles would carry all the big guns
Still bigger ones would be rolled like cannons
About the general, please have no fear
For he shall be riding a cycle with gear
In case the siege falls out of plan
He can flee as quick as Superman.
What would happen to sailing ships
How would they embark on long sea trips
Will there be a thousand men with oar
To draw the vessels from shore to shore?
The captain would need a new license
Poor man! I can hear well his laments
But I think it’d be extremely exciting
To see him demonstrate parallel parking.
Will nuclear reactors be used to steer
Ocean liners? If so we can take some cheer
For they’d blow up often in a huge explosion
And help keep in check the human population
Or would we go back to the good old days
When sailing was about masts, flags, stays and frays
When pirates and corsairs prevailed in the waters
Harbors full of whores and also their daughters?
What about aeroplanes? Will they still be seen?
Or will scientists invent a simple wind machine?
During every takeoff the pilot would yell!
‘ACTION STATIONS! EVERYONE, PEDAL LIKE HELL!’
High up in the air during the course of flight
When the plane goes askew and tilts to the right
The hostess’d say, ‘Everyone to the left row
Please don’t scramble. Be gentle and tip-toe’
Will it be common to ride in a balloon
Which in typhoons will end a bit too soon
You won’t be knowing when and where
You would be going; But it’d be fair
To say that you should be very pleased
To find, at the end, that you are not deceased
Don’t be surprised when on a trip to Denmark
The balloon lands in your neighborhood park.
To compensate for the loss of energy
Would be a problem of the highest degree
I am not qualified enough to discourse
On where he’ll find a new resource
I won’t be surprised if it comes to occur
If all open spaces are covered by many a mirror
To tap energy from the sun’s hot beams
And the earth shall glitter like a land in the dreams.
To take advantage of the earth’s hot core
Long pipes may be drilled through a bore
Through which cold water would be sent
Which ‘ll be heated to an unbearable extent
The tap water that comes with a fizzing sound
May be coming from miles underground
And clusters of windmills may be set up like trees
To harness energy from the powerful breeze.
I could in this fashion go on and on
From morn to eve and eve to morn
Without uttering a final sentence
Till you really lose your patience
But there’s something I’ll tell you
I won’t be there when the fact comes true
I wouldn’t be there even for a vacation
I am truly content to live with my speculation