all proofs must be returned
there is no allotment for keeping even a grain in one’s hand beyond the due date
is it with age that we can know this for sure or is it a duration of expiration a clock we none of us can hear ticking yet all walk the rhythm of alone as this day in this hotel would cast yet not so I can tell myself with the tires of large trucks swishing by on the highway beyond the unopenable window and the fan hum holding back the foreign sounds if I were to end here would anyone know where to find me once the checkout time came and went I can say I don’t care of I care in so much as I wouldn’t want the young woman swishing the broom across the staircase yesterday as I carried my baggage through the side door to have to carry that away on her cart next to the small bottles of shampoo and stack of fresh white towels and sheets