From Issue 13: Ode to Gasoline

George Longenecker I love you— but I hate you. You’ve always been so refined, and I like your aroma; though you’re killing me, I have fond memories, of your high octane brew; forget about CO2, oil spills— gasoline, you and I have gone so many places. We crossed the Kansas plains in my Triumph, black oil pumps rocked gently, sucked fossil fern from bedrock, raw crude that took us all the way to California. You had pumps at every crossroads I’d gas up and drive to escape city pollution watch purple sunsets through dust and ozone haze Janis Joplin singing…

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