Welcome to Alyssa Trivett!

We have lost too many poets in the past year or two.  One of them is the poet whom Alyssa Trivett honors in "For a Friend." This poet was also known for hosting open mics in Alyssa's area.

For a Friend

How do I relay this to you

without knocking on the glass coffin?

I want to pick up your hand

and light your throat on fire

for you to spew a few lines again.

Tried to write a passage 

or two to honor you but all that

came about was this.

I'd take a sip from the hourglass 

to make time stop

to borrow a coffee moment,

as the grains of sand run out, 

down the drain and 

out the revolving door exit,

to say hello again,

or for you to introduce me 

as the girl who wrote a poetry chapbook 

on my way to open mic.

As you always did.

So long, friend.

What I Lived Through Last Year

Every once in a while
they come around,
demons and angels tug o' war,
like dust lingering in attic
as crickets of laundry
chirp in the next side-room over.
I don't ask for them.
Reminders don't get
me down anymore.
Songs play and I recall
driving in the '85 Dodge Caravan
with the windows down,
tape deck fully appetizer,
this was '93 maybe,
at the old house.
I stopped revolving my Wednesdays
around the weekly visits,
it was too taxing,
and all I can think of at the gravesite
is the nearby warehouse beeping
and spying on my own
shadow in hungover sunlight.
It all comes in
slipping off diving board intervals
and my heart blooms from it,
and your voice box in my head
firecrackers off every
once in a while,
I let it.

Photograph by Kiah Ankoor

Soccer Field

Birds crane necks towards a grey 

Wednesday morning

hungover sky

near a broken goal,

with missing net and

graffiti of human anatomy.

Empty beer cans loiter.

They march,

like children leading a revolt.

Porta-potty is flopping in the wind,

or, “the John”

as my grandparents used to call it. 

Artwork by Juan Gris

He

He had that bowling alley 

cigarette smoking throat,

I loved him, regardless,

and he sat and 

howled coffee,

with stars

on his forehead.

He must not have 

had anywhere

in the world of Carmen Sandiego to be,

sliding his pen off the table

and head into 

the cereal bowl.

A diving board contest ten.

Bio:

Alyssa Trivett is a wandering soul from the Midwest. When not working two jobs, she chirps down coffee while scrawling lines on the back of gas station receipts. Her work has recently appeared at The Rye Whiskey Review and Beakful.

Ah ha, since my husband has finished putting the bookshelf together, I can add a little music for these poems.

Did you know that there is a song called "Midwestern Night's Dream"?  This is Gary Burton's version from 1976:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TgyFOraJxvc

Pharoah Sanders follows with "Harvest Time":  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ii63fKLTSuU

Here Nina Simone is covering Bob Dylan's "Tom Thumb's Blues":  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ij1UDMr3B-E

Enjoy!