To Mrs. Johnson: Sort of knowing is not knowing but maybe it’s a start. Hazy black grey knowing warm knowing for sure but no knowing what. What’s the time, said the State Trooper who must have stopped you. Must have been it couldn’t have been me because I am asleep, or should be if not then well—nothing that comes out my mouth to myself which it must be directed to, if no one’s there, can be trusted—but what if no one’s not there but just the same as no one because each and every one of the single one known to be here is sound asleep or should be if not then well—nothing that comes out my mouth better come at all it may turn to be what no one’s supposed to hear—but me—myself—some things can never be said aloud in the presence of even one other. Some things can only be said aloud when alone. Some things are so secret they can’t be said aloud even when alone. And some things are so secret they can only be said aloud when no one including myself yourself or anyone at all is there. And then, silly me and silly you, not to mention silly us and silly them—or me myself and I and anyone else who may have not been covered—there’s no one to say it when there’s no one because to say it there need to be at least one someone so—what the hell is the point what’s being driven at by whoever’s goosing my face head and elsewise—ah, shit—need to pee need quite bad. What time? What’s the time, said the State Trooper who must have stopped you. What’s the difference better do it or—perhaps—mayhaps hapwise maybe be quite sorry very. Go do it. Sort of knowing is not knowing but maybe it’s a start. Eh, Mrs. Johnson?