He was a petrol sniffing man
he always carried one big can
to drive the hot rod at high speed
he had this everlasting need
to burn the rubber of his tyres
and light those Goodrich tyre fires
one day the coppers laid some spikes
he tried to stop but then yelled Yikes
as a result he went to jail
another hotrod paid his bail
his wife then asked for a divorce
and he went back to his old horse.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem