So, just so you know in case you wish to run from me the next time you see me, I pretty much live life as a narrative spoken by a slightly disembodied voice just hovering somewhere around my head. Today while standing at the gas station and running my debit card in the pump, the following poem started to form and words started to swirl around in the air. Anyhow, I was just going to drop it because writing a poem about fuel consumption is kind of odd, but due to a fit of insomnia, I wrote and edited it tonight and ended up with this:

sunshine and fossil fuel
By: Me… the semi-crazy blonde girl

Gas prices don’t really bother me anymore.
I used to stand at the pump, my blood
pressure rising with each click and gulp
as the hose filled my car with petrol. Now,
well, now I realize it is futile. I need to go
places, and since the horse and buggy
have long gone out of fashion, I am stuck
smelling the fumes of decayed dinosaurs
slowly slurping into the tank in my black,
mommy sedan as I lean on the handle and
squeeze the trigger tightly. The numbers go
up, and I serenely watch– the man next to me
grumbles about the three extra cents he
is spending today. Smiling, I look on as the
gauge ticks, increasing the price dollar by
dollar. It should bother me, I’m sure, but
I have bigger battles to fight, harder stresses
to surrender. So, I stand, I wait, and instead
of wondering what percentage of my paycheck
is currently siphoning into the abyss of my
gas tank, I think about buying cupcakes,
or going for a nice, long run.