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Triceratops,
or,
The Guy who Scripts my Dreams

Dreamed 1982/8/24 by Chris Wayan

THAT DAY

When I dreamt this, I was recovering from a batterer, broke, and quite sick. Family (and doctors) said it was all in my head (really an untreated infection PLUS gluten intolerance). In my head? How about therapy then? Nope!

So I did dreamwork--the shrink you see for free.

THAT NIGHT

Another horror movie! But so
hokey I laugh--at first. The star?
A triceratops so big his horns
loom above horizon, even miles
off. But he's not just a dinosaur:

a runaway train too. Crushes brush,
a Loco Motive. The desert burns.
Tramples boomtowns in the dust.
Godziratops? They're burning lots
of loco weed to shoot this stupid film.
Wildlife dies. I'm mad. Real lives,
sacrificed to fake their cheesy reels.

Horrorflick swallows my friends & me.
Triceratops still two miles away,
but he's so big here come his horn-
tips before him! I yell "SCATTER!" We
separate, hide behind tallgrass tufts.

A girl strolls by, blind to beast. Does she
scout for him? I wiggle yards closer, warily
spy on her. Sharp glance--did she see
me behind tussock? Poor cover this near.

Drum, drum! Hulking torso looms. Spikes
rhinoceroid. Triceratops as man! He stalks
toward the heedless girl, but when
he spots me, grins and changes quarry:
herds, traps, jabs, jabs again
me with his monster ballpoint pen!

I run, yell "NAVA! HELP!" but my friend
Nava walked off. You see, she fell
in love with a girl & now can't hear
anyone but Miss Right. Oh, well.
Wonder how her husband'll feel?

So I must fight alone. Fight dirty. Finally I
feel guilty about that, and to the beast
confess "I'm phobic about getting cut."

"More than GUNS?" says the monster,
surprised. "I hate KNIVES!" I shout;
"Far memories of bleeding out."
"I'll take that into" says the Minotaur
"consideration when constructing your
dreams tonight... and from now on!"

Oh. His job? Nice to be heard, I guess.
Finer-tuned horror. How generous.
We fight endlessly on. I get so worn
I blurt out, rash--"I wish I could quit
and go to bed." To my amaze
he says "Tomorrow, then. Go crash.
The next room over's free." I

stagger down hall, only to find
the bedroom door don't fill its frame!
Can't lock the monsters out in the hall.
(No longer solo--not only my dream-
scriptwriter, portable Gate of Horn,
my personal persecutor! No, beside
Triceratops now blusterly doth stride
my bust-in-to-nag-you Dad.)

Oh, Horny's sly. Assigned me an
unlockable nook so he'll slip in
with custom-built nightmare truths--
when I wake I'll have to pen. Yet...

by the lintel's a wide closet--three
sliding panels. And the room-door's
just a fourth panel, on the same
rails--they curve around. Perhaps
I CAN lock up! So I slide TWO
of the four doors over! Ill-sized,
but paired overlapping panels do
plug the nightmare gap. Lock, snap!

The cost? Now closet-jaw yawns wide.
So... just which monsters will I decide
to let invade my dreams? Horror hid
in closetdark--or dinosaurs outside?

The grouchy, pen-jabbing, triceratops-headed author of my dreams. Dream sketch by Wayan. Click to enlarge.

I try to keep a triceratops out of my bedroom but the door won't lock. Dream sketch by Wayan. Click to enlarge.

NOTES NEXT MORNING

2015 NOTE

I posted this dream for two reasons.

  1. How often do you get to meet the scriptwriter of your own dreams? And learn he does listen.
  2. But also... this dream warns against banishing nightmares via bland behaviorism. You can't and shouldn't block them totally--they warn of real problems! Have a talk, fine-tune them, even learn to half-shield yourself... but leave the horror door ajar! It seems we need monstrosity. In moderation.


LISTS AND LINKS: dream incubation - animal people - dinosaurs - violence & nightmares - dreaming personified - shamanism - dreams about dreaming - self-defense - locks and keys - out of the closet! - relatives and other monsters - dream humor - health advice & therapy - same dreamer, same night: Silky Crosses the Atlantic! - Triceratops's bossy cousin, in Dino Treasure

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