Night is a spacemonger, more about what

can't be conceived than what can't be

seen.

Not only on some level, it's what gets into

stars when they counterpoint.

Starting from a brilliantly aborted

distance, whose distance never gets

beyond what Is.

Which covers the same distance as what

Is Not, that's how far.

They are to be named in the way that one

forgets a name--but knows it.

The stars, that Is.

Similar to the things he's doing tonight

that have nothing to do with his name.

As there are ways that it unhappens--

there's more distance in the thought of

what he's doing, than what he's doing.

As some New York Jazz plays.

The sax's notes are even cooler about the

whole thing.