Alyssa Trivett

The Living Dead

You put on your overcoat,
asked if the people in the frame
looked happy,
intentions not clear.

They often came in shifts,
quite often in silence,
factory workers
ready to punch in.

One dusted the living room,
startled the cat,
not overdoing
the walking through walls thing,
more than that.

No fingerprints on doorknobs,
no breath on the window,
rather, a knock heard once in a while,

a gesture of a smile,
or a faint hello,
quiet as a churchgoer.

One would bartend,
sparkling glass as clear
as the day it was purchased,

or catalogue war photography,
alphabetical by location,
year descending.

It wasn’t the property,
nor any sort of bloodline,
maybe for the sake of the end,
something to keep them busy;

or for the sake of a former life.



Alyssa Trivett is a wandering soul from the Midwest. When not working two jobs, she listens to music and scrawls lines on the back of gas station receipts.