Okay. Yes. I’m aware that I’m posting this on Thursday. I blame it on my closing shift — bloody day jobs. This week at The Write Practice I took a stab at some Spec Poetry.
- any of numerous extinct Paleozoic marine arthropods (group Trilobita) having the segments of the body divided by furrows on the dorsal surface into three lobes
Reverb shakes the water column;
a cascade of pressure reception, too close.
Straining water flexes weakened cuticle.
A trilobite hunkers in, rolling, enrolling;
tumbling away, just in time.
Compound eyes tac an escape.
Hungry ones roll into view;
flaps churn along a sinuous body.
A wave, juddering trilobite-ian senses.
Down and down;
a fragile underside limb tongues between dorsal sutures.
A gill tasting, breathing.
Guzzling to fuel greedy instinct.
Clamps closed again, not swimming;
A trilobite relies on a flicker’s reaction.
A trilobite trusts the appraisal of intuition.
There is no time for hope;
but if he did, the trilobite would certainly cheer
for stiffened spines –
When Opabinia scuttles close for another pass.