I seek the lorn streets, the derelict ways,
That run unbeknownst
Behind businesses that died long ago.
The broken pavement and shuttered facades
Echo my desolate mien.
Bleak skies with lowering clouds
Add uncertain rain and chilling wind.
I do not walk alone on my solitary path.
Ghosts and memories accompany my each step.
We suit each other well.
Once again I find myself
A renitent gadfly, with a rebarbative voice.
Familiar but tiresome,
And I am loath to continue this charade.
I am no Ariadne in these times.
Indeed, should I be compared to anyone,
Give me the name of Cassandra.
I discomfit and discomfort
While being seen as caviling.
Let me go my solitary way.
I’ll soon be crying out for Charon anyway.