80 GOOD NIGHT

By William Carlos Williams

In brilliant gas light

I turn the kitchen spigot

and watch the water plash

into the clean white sink．

On the grooved drain-board to one side is

a glass filled with parsley—

crisped green．

Waiting

for the water to freshen—

I glance at the spotless floor—

a pair of rubber sandals

lie side by side

under the wall-table

all is in order for the night．

Waiting，with a glass in my hand

—three girls in crimson satin

pass close before me on

the murmurous background of

the crowded opera—

it is

memory playing the clown—

three vague，meaningless girls

full of smells and

the rustling sound of

cloth rubbing on cloth and

little slippers on carpet—

high-school French

spoken in a loud voice！

Parsley in a glass，

still and shining，

brings me back．I take my drink

and yawn deliciously．

I am ready for bed．