Tall tales abound that strange things happen at the full moon.
Any doctor will tell you: when the moon is full, all hell breaks loose.
If night never ended we would hardly recognise what we become,
succumb to sleep’s inexorable pull, let your mouth slack and be done.
Tall tales abound that strange things happen at the full moon.
He starts punching, desperately, and repeatedly;
if night never ended we would hardly recognise what we become,
let your mouth slack and be done.
He starts punching, desperately and repeatedly;
dreamed of trying to save a child, only to wake,
his fists making deep impressions in the mattress.
“Ill met by moonlight. I’m not going back in there,” she said.
Let your mouth slack and be done, succumb to sleep’s inexorable pull;
if night never ended we would hardly recognise what we become.