Fueling Sins

(hmmm-mm) Pulling up beneath the plastic awning

Fluorescent overhead hums in the dawn

I hold the nozzle while the counter climbs

Paying fifty dollars for five minutes of time

Breath turns bitter in the fumes and rain

Stuck in idle on the eight-lane strip

Checking the dashboard, recalculating the trip We buy green leaves in plastic

bags inside

Then burn ten gallons just to take a ride

Complaining of the traffic that we make

We curse the haze against the glass (we curse the glass) Watching

another season pass

Feeding the tank to run the maze again

Running on combustion, running out of calm

Holding tiny fires right inside our palm

We count the cost per gallon,

never count the cost of breath Driving faster circles toward the quiet

of the edge (holding the wheel so tight)

Running on combustion, looking for the light

Glass and steel and metal cage

Turning frustration into quiet rage

We sit with windows rolled up high

Pretending we are separate from the sky

(are we separate from the sky?)

Running on combustion, running out of calm

Holding tiny fires right inside our palm

We count the cost per gallon,

never count the cost of breath Driving faster circles toward the quiet

of the edge

(we keep on feeding it)

Running on combustion, looking for the light

Just another receipt on the floor

Click of the key in the ignition door (ooh-ooh) Another mile down