No worries about space existing,
but as long as hope is too
it is sensible to lay by articles
that are expensive and cumbersome,
super-numerous,
and virus-forced into disuse;
to lay by airplanes in deserts;
to geometrically order those crosses,
those wheeled, powered pluses,
those largely-whites
so cumbersomer than buses.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem