GOOD NIGHTBy William Carlos WilliamsIn brilliant gas lightI turn the kitchen spigotand watch the water plashinto the clean white sink.

On the grooved drain-board to one side isa glass filled with parsley—crisped green.

Waitingfor the water to freshen—I glance at the spotless floor—a pair of rubber sandalslie side by sideunder the wall-tableall is in order for the night.

Waiting, with a glass in my hand—three girls in crimson satinpass close before me onthe murmurous background ofthe crowded opera—it ismemory playing the clown—three vague, meaningless girlsfull of smells andthe rustling sound ofcloth rubbing on cloth andlittle slippers on carpet—high-school Frenchspoken in a loud voice!

Parsley in a glass,still and shining,brings me back.

I take my drinkand yawn deliciously.

I am ready for bed.

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