As lonesome as hell

 

The planet is spinning through space.  About six miles an hour. Like a shopping cart rolling along in an empty parking lot. Like sitting in a chair. Surfing through the net. An ambulance pulled up next door. And carted an old man off to the hospital. A hour later a couple of fire trucks rolled up to the neighbour across the street. False alarm. No fire. Its so warm that flies are starting to wake up inside the window frame. A lot of people are watching the super bowl. And the planet is still spinning. Sunday evening. And I feel as lonesome as hell.