Flanerie Downtown

I breathe grey air in spaces in between, And whisky stings my tongue and bides the time, In steps I aimlessly record the scene, And cherish my misanthropy sublime. Wandering the streets and alleyways, Of this downtown, wherever I may be, No need for love suffocating my days, Alone but free to lie with honesty. I let my flanerie in verses sing, Excited to report that everywhere, The happy tattered P.I.G. is living, “The great imperative” of Baudelaire!