Variation V from "Theme and Variations Over a Cup of Coffee"

No, I'm sorry.

Here, why don't you take the moon? It's quite within reach and the lovers can do without it for one night. The way she's starting to droop, they'd have put her out with their musty sweaters and erroneous kitchen wares in a cardboard free box by the sidewalk to get soggy in the rain.

She's not for the lovers tonight. She's a jaundiced yellow like the half-circles under your eyes. Pick her up as you stumble away from the Horseshoe Cafe on the corner of Holly and Railroad.

Take her with you tonight and hang her above your head, right where the waves of the bay slap against the concrete rubble of Junk Beach, right over the warehouses abandoned for meth dens. Leave her on with the light in your bathroom just in case you have to rise in the middle of the night. Rock her to sleep to the freight train wheels sharp across the tracks. Kiss her on the cheek when you hear the hollow train whistle sing her off to dream. She can be yours for tonight, that's really all I've got.

But no, I'm sorry. No change to spare.