Trilobite

Trilobite is an arthropodologist's delight:
many bizarre creatures; no two alike.

“This Is A Happy House”

Alice Ladrick

1.

Something gorgeous in a

tinted eyebrow. A shoulder

slathered in self tanner. Teeth

whitened with a kit bought

online.


All little ways of hiding the fact

that the house that you were born in

is crumbling at the corners.

I stole that line from a song

it’s a good one and we all do

our professions make our

protestations


Primal human activities

require

art.

2.

The house that you were

born in is crumbling at

the corners.

Falling apart as they say

run down

overrun

How the river runs

is no concern

of mine.

3.

Writing just something

just something small

Just something little with a

feeling for the breaks

Stop saying “just” they

told me to stop qualifying

But how will I know.

4.

Heartbreak poems your poem

is crumbling at the corners

Your house is a nuisance and you

you are the most of all.

5.

When it comes knocking you

feel it come not with claws

but with the softest paws

The gentle weight of a large

cat easing its way onto your chest


It takes up the space and leaves

only after awhile do you feel

the hurt of it

Sometimes the softest

paw is a claw.

6.

Your body crumbling each twinge

in your back a knife of age

ouch that was dramatic

how do we listen to dashboard as

unhinged 40 year old men wearing

shorts on a 50 degree day


nobody warm enough everybody

enjoying the vibe change but still

crumbling constantly an emotional

state is fucked it’s a vote away

from the writing on the wall


my house a house of age

a miracle of savior and luck

a pluck of injectables holding

together a blend of rocks and

bird feathers

7.

Curating a collection of body

parts but only the nice ones

this isn’t horror poetry I’m not

foreign and shocking just

average 30-something slowly

falling apart eating frozen pizza

on the couch every Friday night


always fascinated by the idea

entropy—that everything tends

toward falling and where’s

the proof that we’re not eroding

slowly stop making the necessaries

a birthday cake of a skull in the shape

of a heart writ “memento mori”