Subtitle: Boys Will Be Boys
Male internal combustion knock
has much to do with raw fuel.
Most fellows think it’s really cool.
They brag of how their innards talk.
Thanksgiving Day - so much to say,
after eating, they really squawk.
I think they run a private school
for internal combustion knock.
Male internal combustion ping
a refrain that blames the fuel.
It’s worse when two stage a duel.
Mom pardons how their innards sing.
On Christmas Day - much on their tray.
After eating, they really zing.
She tries to impose a gag rule
on internal combustion ping.
Male internal combustion noise,
results from high octane fuel.
To their mother nothing's new, well -
let them debate their inner joys.
On any day - her guys can play,
while they're eating, boys will be boys,
any excuse to play the fool
with internal combustion noise.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem