The Thing in the Moonlight


af Howard Philips Lovecraft & Agent C.


My dream began in a

grey autumn sky rising

to the north.


I did the black mouths

into the depths of

narrow places.


The choking dark space felt

conscious and bodiless

my spirit too great


the source of my eyes

about no living object

below the rushes I had eaten.


After which the limp

following of a plain

the light switch


implied the brief absence

and raised his face

to howl to the moon.


The other forced me

to stop this on all fours

because the face


the white tentacle was aware

I only dreamed the night

for awakening not found myself.


When night parted the weeds

before me the face

lifted the moonlight strangely.


Night me to place horror.


I tried moving.


The coming must walk

in my slumber

with the thing of pale moonlight


I fear I might find

a rehersal of the most radical departure unscripted
a rehersal of the most radical departure unscripted

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