I'm all alone and no one comes near;
I'm drowning my sorrows
on dreams of tomorrow.
It's sad to think that this country,
once empty and free,
is quickly filling up with strangers
having nothing to do with me.
I wish they'd fuse or diffuse
and take the burden off the future
for deciding the human geography
and settle down to building
something timeless and true;
That's something I'm feeling
I'm needing tonight.
The sounds of twilight take their toll.
Any minute now strangers will break the spell
by charging in
and catching me off guard
in a moment of control.
Out of the subterranean terrain
where card games may go on all night
some Diogenes is looking for
one honest Platonic relationship
as two technocrats are trading bits and bytes.
Omniscience has subtly descended on my senses;
all six of them are on alert.
I even understand the crickets' cadences
so of course I'm well aware
of the Doppler effect as applied to stairs.
The pitch dips low
and my sense of grandeur is in death throws.
The end of the world,
as the end of the evening,
is in the air.
He turns the corner and sees me there
"come back to the party," he says,
in the dark, in the corner,
all alone,
"It's not a healthy sign."
"I don't know," I say,
"This is where life sometimes hides,
come join me."
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