Short Propane Poems

The concept is crazy.  It's entirely insane. 
Thanks for suggesting, but I will abstain.  
No way, I'll never do that.  

I'll drink rusty water from a wagon left in the rain,
mixed with boiled fat and a tank of propane,
but I'll never do that...again....

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Picturesque
 Floating in near silence
 A chosen landscape 
 For its beauty, 
 Majestic.
 Light peeks over the horizon
 Holding the women I love
 Tightly in my arms
 Tiny 
 So my torso
 Envelopes her
 We shared gasps 
 Between blasts
 Propane gas
 We will land soon
 Time
 So perfectly
 Passed...

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Ninety five degrees
standing poolside
on the wooden patio
in the backyard
orange Androsia print apron
hugging my torso
propane grill
propelling fumes
hot as a steamroom
at a suana
Tendered rib eyed
and porterhouse steaks
seasoned in high salt
like abstract paintings
brushed in A1 sauce
and finally
a side of
friench fried potatoes
spruced in liquid tomatoes
from the essence of my garden
served to my darling party guests
with a golden heart of culinary perfection
...

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