One day I saw an old guy with a poodle filling up his gas tank, the poodle sitting patiently in the driver's seat as he committed to a full tank. It was a hot day in November, and the poodle was panting furiously. I realized at this moment that it was my duty to write at least three hundred poems about it, and I did at that, plus a few more, and here you have them. As you peruse, though some of them may appear to have little to do with a gas station and a poodle, a hot day or November, but I promise you, in their hearts, they are all in one way or another, are indebted to all of these things plus a camera for their creation. Also don't forget the old guy with the gas pump who lost his little hat shortly before he was immortalized. As dudes go, he is a mighty righteous one. Love, Ricky