About the Writer
Claire Matthews’ work, long-listed for the 2013 CBC Poetry Prize, has appeared in Arc, Joyland, Room Magazine, Loose Lips Magazine, The Maynard, and Plenitude. She’s currently working on a collection of essays titled, I Bet You Think This Book Is About You. In her spare time, she makes soap and drinks whisky.
MY UNDERWEAR DRAWER HOUSES THE BOOK OF MORMON
I like worst-case scenarios. She likes the rebellious girls
she masturbates to. I want to bite into them,
juice dribbling down my chin. Where do we go from here?
This adulterous thing you have going on
makes me immune to judgment. It’s like a promise
ring without a ring. It’s just a promise.
You carry Werthers in your purse?
So I can make friends. Would you like one, friend?
She was that kind of girl.
But we don’t have to be geography—neither of us
know the meaning. I scrape your surface, but perhaps
it was only an echo. We don’t know where we’ve been.
We walk through the streets, cut across
the predictability of snow. The first time
you call me Hummel, knot me to a line.
Logic is the philosophical analysis of arguments.
I want to tell you what I couldn’t then:
there’s never a secret not told.
When Ra wept and his tears hit the ground
they turned into honeybees. If I could pick a part of you
to stay: the other woman.
-- House Stuff
-- Heat Dream
Artwork and Photography
-- Mistry Trees
-- Let it Begin