Laurence Goldstein

“This Moment in the Last Decades of the Petroleum Age”

                                                            (Ian McEwan)

Barely of age, he slides onto the leather seat
          a pilot          a rocket
flaming across the empty byroad,
North Territorial, and feels up to his gut
the degravitational thrust . . . wow!

How long will the Century burn, ash-hot
          a racer          an outlaw
till his seventy dollar fill-up at BP,
self-serve, premium grade, on VISA,
smokes into history, rises into smoggy heaven

And he’s back in line at the ever-sucking pump
          a user          a loser
and somewhere at the end of manhood
a long, penitent walk awaits him,
on flint, on nails, in the footprints of Adam and Eve?

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