I drove my Chevy to the old gas pump,
A cry rang out in complaint.
A man said “Egad! Look at that bill! ”
Before dropping dead in a faint.
There were yells and screams as chaos arose.
People with Hummers and trucks,
They ran about with empty wallets,
“A gallon costs seven bucks! ”
The drivers sobbed, gas pumps in their hands,
Many decided to pray.
But there came a farmer with plow and hoe,
“Fear not! Corn shall save the day! ”
Thanks to ethanol, the cleaner burning kind,
The age of green soon began.
It went to our pockets and on our lawns,
Until America went to war with Iran.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well written verse disguised as political commentary with a nicely acerbic bite to it.