Serial Night Terror


Very cute kittens in a basket 

are too easily transmuted by casts

and curses, turning them into stone

dragons spillung fire, with impossible 

hooks and daggers as one time paws,

as a moment ago teeth. Transpired from

a daisy white as whiteness in winter

a sun at center suddenly brown

withered when the wand is wistfully

waved or the curse uttered.


Terror sized sleep affords 

the deepest and cruelest means

of interpreting the bordom

of living too much and too



Great winged creatures crack

from stones, wet with ages

and unreliable mythologies,

leap into your view, and you

cower in what no one could

name fear.


Dreams as transference make

for interesting awakenings

come morning. The yawning sun

is a liar now, rested night was 

a bigger liar. Sweat rolls

into your vision sphere

and, emotion shredded, you 

turn over and hope for

a dreamless nap.







View allets's Full Portfolio