Stewart McKenzie Poems

My abs are not really a six pack
More of a keg I’d say
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When I look - reality freezes
Amorphous waves of quantum probability
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What delight to be on the hill of Howth
Before sailing the white haired sea!
The waves that break against its face!
The rocky cliffs and shingles!
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Those country dawns of childhood!
The smell of them!
A fresh new morning!
A great chorus of birdsong
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It turns out that mice sing songs
As rich and varied as birdsongs.
They can even sing two notes at once
To make strange sounds and transitions.
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Hooks in my head.
Insistent scrap of song.
Catching slogan.
Syncopated rhythm.
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I, who have seen Times Square,
Rivers of light, red and white,
On twelve lane superhighways,
The glitter of nightside earth from seven miles high,
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No go the low go
Right what you no!

No war for a gas tank!
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Misty streamers of dreamskins
Tattered by awakening
Evaporating in the light of thought
Two black hippos joyfully frolicking
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Hum-ho
Thus and so
At the turn of the world revolve
Both night and day
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