Changing
      is
      the
      moon
     
    
   
   
    
     
      Walking
      along
      a
      stony
      path,
     
     
      I
      look
      at
      the
      night
      sky
      and
      wonder
     
     
      why
      other
      things
      don't
      change
      as
      easily
      as
      the
      moon.
     
     
      Full.
      Three
      quarter.
      Half.
      Quarter.
      New.
     
     
      The
      pattern
      of
      drinking
      continues
      until
     
     
      the
      waitress
      walks
      toward
      me,
     
     
      doubled
      by
      my
      happiness.
     
     
      Give
      her.a
      fifty
      and
      she
      gives
      back
     
     
      a
      drink,
      and
      two
      twenties,
     
     
      but
      keeps
      the
      rest
      of
      the
      change.
     
     
      losing
      interest
      in
      my
      drink,
      I
      begin
     
     
      to
      look
      at
      the
      green
      leaves
      in
      my
      hand.
     
     
      Green
      means
      go,
      but
      the
      cabbie
     
     
      won't
      step
      on
      the
      gas,
      |
      tell
      him
     
     
      ‘here's
      the
      money',
      and
      show
      him
      the
      bills,
     
     
      but
      nothing
      can
      make
      the
      cab
      move.
     
     
      Except,
      maybe,
      the
      car
      coming
      behind
      us.
     
     
      Crashing,
      is
      all
      I
      want
      to
      do,
     
     
      find
      a
      place
      to
      lay
      my
      head
      and
      fall
      asleep.
     
     
      Or
      maybe
      I
      should
      take
      a
      hot
      bath.
     
     
      My
      body
      is
      sore,
      and
      could
      use
      the
      comfort
     
     
      of
      something
      warm.
     
     
      Drip
      drop,
      drip
      drop.
     
     
      My
      nose
      can't
      stop
      bleeding.
     
     
      Didn't
      notice
      the
      pole.
     
     
      Saw
      the
      girl
      in
      the
      purple
      skirt,
      but
      not
      the
      pole.
     
     
      What
      do
      I
      do?
      Pinch
      my
      nose,
      ©
     
     
      tilt
      my
      head
      back
      and
      count
      to
      five.
     
     
      One,
      two,
      three,
      four,
     
     
      finally
      someone
      gives
      me
      a
      napkin,
     
     
      and
      picks
      me
      off
      the
      bar
      floor.
     
     
      A
      bouncer
      suggests
      that
      I
      should
      go.
     
     
      I
      take
      the
      advice,
      and
      make
      my
      way
     
     
      through
      the
      bar,
      pass
      the
      racing
      game
      ‘crazy
      cab’,
     
     
      pass
      a
      girl
      in
      purple
      skirt
      yelling
      at
      a
      tall
      skinny
      guy
      who
     
     
      has
      his
      hand
      in
      a
      bucket
      of
      ice.
     
     
      Step
      through
      the
      doorway,
     
     
      and
      begin
      to
      walk,
     
     
      not
      really
      sure
      where
      I'm
      going.
     
     
      Just
      walking
      along
      a
      stony
      path,
      where
     
     
      I
      look
      up
      at
      the
      night
      sky
      and
      wonder
     
     
      why
      other
      things
      don't
      change
      as
      easily
      as
      the
      moon.
     
    
   
   
    
     
      .
      Alex
      Field
     
    
   
   
    
     
      [8]