The poems in Fuel pick at the weave of oil-soaked world orders to interrogate the ways capitalist death-drive seeps into our unconscious lives.
Traversing multivalent intimacies from the underworld of California’s Central Valley oil fields to the quotidian domestic and love’s painful retraction, Stockton’s poems articulate the blurry modes of extraction, fantasy, loss, gender, and labor as they interact and overlap in the shadow of environmental and personal collapse. Between gas station gifts, Venmo requests, and nocturnal love letters, Fuel unravels the self and violent systems of domination, longing for a togetherness that transcends its own ending.
Fuel is a striking, intellectually charged collection that fuses the language of intimacy with the logic of extraction. Rosie Stockton’s poems move fluidly between the material and the emotional, oil fields, long drives, digital transactions, and love’s slow erosion, revealing how systems of labor, desire, and environmental collapse bleed into one another.
What makes this book compelling is its tonal precision: the poems feel at once lyrical and destabilizing, tender yet structurally aware. Stockton captures the psychic texture of contemporary life, where affection, dependency, and depletion coexist. The result is a collection that is both sensorial and conceptually sharp, lingering on the fragile edges of connection and survival.
I finished this book amidst the US beginning to aggressively imperialize countries for their oil and resources with family stuck in Puerto Rico, my partner abroad, and me in New York. It felt timely and human. We are drenched in our personal lives but also that of the larger world and to think one doesn’t influence the other would be foolish - Rosie captures this feeling perfectly.