His Recurring Night Terrors


Beneath the thick fir planking
of the subway station platform
dwell his nemeses...

All the subterranean galleries
peopled by his nemeses

Hoary harpies
whose naked drumsticks end in claw
rake the planking to splinters
or wind smoking about the tense trolley wire
their veiled eyes gimlet him;
they drag their pendulous dugs
over his writhing face
and abrade his recoiling glans
with pin-feathered abdomens,
then, balancing on his brief arousal
they beat him into merciful unconsciousness
with the weighty wings
of their changeling's flight.

Smooth businessmen
all gladness of hand outstretched
to offer the security of friendship
and a warmth unclammy with talc
clasp his wealth
to stony hearts
and leave him understanding
something about the brotherhood
of lambs led.

The pitiable:
beneath the meek surface of penury
their need waits
like a beak of an octopus
puncturing, ripping,
enfolding him
limb by suckered limb
and he gives and gives
until he sees his carcass
cast aside
staring back at him
in vacant disbelief.

The holy ones
lie in wait
underfoot
at the bottom of the mire
disgorging bliss and peace
and collecting their
miserable remittances
from the wrung-out testaments
of the guilt-ridden afraid;
the stanchions of their codified rituals
sustain the halt
with one undeniable certainty:
he is immortal...
he shall live forever.
Incredulous, he asks,
"Live forever? All of us?"
He knows there is guilt no forgiving can soothe,
deeds no eternity can right.

Some chums of his youth
barely recognizable
in his recurring dream
encircle him
in a slow-wheeling
inward-facing dance
(Hey-ho-the-merry-o)
a vague arabesque
playing out ancient scenes
in the subterranean halls
of his nocturne.




And his lovers --
he senses his lovers'
beautiful fleshes
and coughs hair inhaled
as fond burrowings half-close his eyes ...
lips...the memory fails...
but the flavours mask
the hunger and the thirst;
he dreams of nipples under his palms,
his fingertips,
his tongue-dart
and dreams the wonder
of his linear love drawn
to the spots of damp heat...

Straining to rise
at the edge of his dream
the dewy, canine eyes
of this latest one
fang at his nerve
glisten at his awakening


Web Design by Douglas Elves. Water reflection photograph by Linda Jennings.
Dean Morrison McKenzie
Biography icon

McKenzie's a kid from the village; it shows in his themes. His poetry, fiction, music, films and essays are laden with imagery gathered from the world that surrounds small prairie towns. So far he has co-authored two or three chapbooks, read his stuff on public radio and has had his voice used to record commercials and training films. McKenzie's first CD, "Prairie Hejira" was published in 2001 and on November 23rd, 2003, at The Yardbird Suite, he and the band released "The Silver Apples of the Moon". He also wrote the script for "Skipping Stone" -- the AMPIA-award winning film produced by Frame 30, and recently Michael Hamm screened McKenzie's "Night Benz", another short film based on the prose/poem included in this chap book. It was awarded a Silver Medal at the Houston International Festival of Independent Films in the category Jazz/New Age/Spoken Word.

When asked about life as a retired English teacher, he refers to it as a bus man's Holiday. "I've been editing the work of others all my life; now I'm smoothing out my own roughnesses."

Watch for his next chapbook, "The McKenzie Chronicles" and "The Jazz Poet" CD is just around the corner along with a loosely connected series of short stories about the "Urbaniginals". McKenzie is also working with MaxMedia to produce some poetry/art/music videos with the collaboration of Alberta post-modern impressionist Wayne Schneider. Wayne's paintings create moody graphics that reflect some of the darker aspects of McKenzie's themes; the corollary: McKenzie's poems reflect Wayne's angst. Andrew Glover's synthesized keyboards will accompany "His Recurring Night Terrors" in the performance poems.

The submissions in this electronic chapbook include pieces that you may have read, heard or seen elsewhere, but they were nearly all published on this web site or in the Stroll Archives before they made their way into recordings, public performances, hard copies or film scripts.


POEMS
Lysergia: The Day of the Ergot
INDIAN SUMMER HAS GONE
The Wild Cattery
A Dance Danced
John O'Winter
Equinox -- Long Beach
Modestly! Modestly!
Honouring Christian Bok
Shades of Another Time
Another Pedestrian Poem
Etching the Blank
Her Sausage Hangs for the Nonce
Van Diemen's Seedlings
The Urbaniginal at the UAH B&B
The Wash
The Burn at Dawn
Commuter Lust
"Silver Apples of the Moon"
Night Benz: the Retromantic
His Recurring Night Terrors
The Cat's Ass
Ecumenical Earthday
Winter 2004
The Ends of Things
Chinook
The Grand Children and the Animals
Echo and Narcissus
Skin Knot -What Phrygian King?
tango
May Day
This Site is a Carousel of Clouds
Waxwing
Jake Lemoine
Our Lady Of The Snows
The Moon's Last Quarter
Eugenic Dreamscape
Below the Fall
La Douce Dame Jolie
Waterscape
The Archaeologist in the Valley of the Kings
Herr Schroer's Harvest
Harbinger of Desiccation
The Great Debate
Up the Burke Road
Urn
So Wolf Willow Grows