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N O C T U R N E To know is an extreme condition like doubt, and will not rest. Even the dailies unravel in the end. The aperture shut tight. Is it so difficult to admit light in its unconditional noise its electric blur, its red cherry red, red of the advertisements or yellow, cool as yellow gold flat as mustard yellow. And bright-bright Gatorade green green dusky as gray forest-shade green. All, under blue, a prison shirt blue that torch song blue of the crooner’s eyes 141 or the blue between tenements between trees, kids, air. The throaty blue in a doorway after a party. 142 ...

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