Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I wonder how much gasoline, refined
and wonderful, my body would produce
if given time and space for carbon to
cocoon and fly away some later day
with locomotive and combusted speed—
I wonder what my value’d be; but still
it may be better not to know since, though
I drink so much of it, the more I flow
within my veins the more I surely will
complain about its cost, of how I bleed
to feed my robot engine heart and lay
all else aside to but provide a few
more miles per hour. Tell me: what’s the use
of worth when all its value’s cheap to find?