American Loneliness

It’s deer carcasses on the side of the highway

And wrappers tumbling through an empty supermarket parking lot

It’s that chill you feel on the back of your neck

And the weird silence that’s at the end of a CD

American loneliness is pervasive

It’s in every little nook, every tiny crack, every small thumbtack prick -- effectively under your skin

What do you do?

What do you do when you’re surrounded by the thickest, itchy wool sweater of your doubts and your own shortcomings?

It’s the smoke that floats up after a candle is blown out

And the color of chewed up gum stuck to the pavement

American loneliness is a jail cell

And it wants you to die