I was standing on my head on Lake Shore

I was standing on my head on Lake Shore Drive when you didn't notice, driving by / setting me spinning in traffic. I was making a name for myself atop Mount Rushmore when you just flipped past the news channel. I was pouring enough purple paint down the Eiffel Tower to make it something new when word came you don't care for France much. I was leaning on your jewelry; I was finding your lost journal; but you had abandoned such things. I was replacing the flag on the moon with one large enough to see from your porch; I myself was the man on the moon; A message came you now only go out in the daylight. Then I saw those United States just vanish from the earth, water between Canada and Mexico. All Our sundry earthly outposts disappeared too. So I just floated there; me, the last man in American territory, and the giant flag I'd placed there for you and retroactively for all those gone forever.