The Cartographer’s Lament:
Pricked by the Thorns of the Compass Rose
I’m driving
But I’m driving in circles
I’ve got a map that I can’t read
And a compass that points due Wrong
But I’ve got all that I need
That is, indeed
If what I need
Is to leave home to find my way home
Back home to a place
Where what is known
Is that the answers are not
Back home to a place
Where what I remember
Is the fact that I forgot
Never mind that I’m driving forward
I always find I end up back
Back to a desire to move forward
Toward the knowledge I lack
A legend says it without a word
Back home to draw another map