LP Gas. It's a second choice.
Always has been. May as well
be in the future, same as always.
Nothing special, just the gas.
Blowing bubbles, stinking up
the atmosphere, useful perhaps.
But stays among the unmentioenable,
without significance. Or anything.
Wow. They said he might. But?
He could not, would not, did not.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem