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.