i came in loud/ i left loud.

i came in loud. i left loud. in between, i slept. it is always this way, isn't it? this morning i read jack lemmin was born in an elevator. before that i watched the front page. i didn't sleep, but could have. it is always this way, isn't it? i smoked a cigarette in the snow and pondered a fake-stone turtle on the back porch balcony- his stony face peeking from the snow shrouded on the rail. i pulled a red coat towards my chin. has it ever been any other way, i asked the tortoise but he did not say a word, not even shivering. you are stronger than i, i said, pulling the door closed and wrapping the butt in a napkin. what hasn't been packed yet...too much. which things am i forgetting and when will i realize? it was always this way, it won't matter. i came in loud. i left loud. in between, i slept and did not know myself.