I smiled at the madman. What else can you do, backed into a corner by a raving, unwashed transient sharing his confidence with you, letting you in on the truth of things? Our politicians are lizard, our sky’s a television, the moon is the door out, and we must go up to it. What is on the outside, the other side of that pale light? Oh unfaithful moon, driving your lovers mad. You turn your face away and leave them in darkness. Oh, but you don’t leave them without a coquettish smile, the same smile you give on your return.
The Moon Smiles
Tale Told 