Moonlight

I've been living in this closet for some months now. It's rather spacious, and it's got diet Coke and vodka on tap; as well as a squad of Russian dancing men who are also underwear models if Anna's in the mood for that sort of thing. But one thing has been irking me about it, for as I pretend to sleep, upside down on one of the railings, I can only see the black of the ceiling (for a while I thought about having it painted like the Sistine Chapel- but with Anna and I and other important people, rather than cherubs and such. Cherubs are so fat and ugly, don't you think?). And what's been irking me is the absence of moonlight.

You see, when I lived in the "outside world" I would hang upside down from the ceiling and look at the moonlight longingly. I would have conversations with it, on the river that passed by one of my Mansions. Because everybody else would be passed out/asleep (mostly passed out. Sleeping's a very rare thing in fashion), and the only things I had to talk to were what was not human. That is, the clothes; the floor; the windows; the animals that hadn't been kidnapped by PETA for their super-secret soups which claim to be vegetarian, but are in fact mostly meat that's been convinced to act as vegtables-- all those sort of things. And the moonlight was the most interesting of all those things. No, it was not just interesting. It was love. The grass never had much to say ("Giday mate, nice weather we're having"...it was one of those...non-people. If it were human it'd wear too-high shorts and have a hairy chest.), and the clothes are oh-so bitchy sometimes. Of course, the moonlight was always so far away...

Anyway, I miss it because we don't get the moonlight in the closet. I talked to Anna about installing a moon in it, but she explained that moons are rather large things, and it'd probably do some gravity thing to the rest of the planet. Cause global warming, global obesity (because it's adding weight to the Earth), etc. And besides, it wouldn't be the same moon from which moonlight came from.

To solve this problem at Chanel we're making a rocket. Not a big kind of rocket, just a small one that has ropes attached to put the moon onto. It's going to be red, so it'll be fast. Everybody knows red makes things go faster.
If the moonlight happens to be reading this now, I'd like to ask it to come into the closet by itself, if possible. I really miss it. Or how about a dialogue to the moonlight, hmm? That's rather Shakespearian. I shall give it a go.

Karl: Oh Moonlight, moonlight. Come back to me. My cold heart yearns for your rays of Debussy-played light onto the black screen of my sunglasses.

And there we go. Maybe I'll write a play about it, hmm? We could have "The Royal Karl Company" to perform it.