The Maynard
Spring 2016

Claire Matthews

That Night She Happened So Easy

Everything you want to know has been written
on a bathroom stall. If anyone wants
to say hello, I’m right here.

Toronto was the first place she’d been
where Surrey Girl didn’t mean
anything. She wanted to move there.

We drew water borders around
North America. Short of counting the words
in our textbooks, there was nothing left

to do. In third grade, we made penises
out of elastic bands. She knew what it looked like
when you stripped it of its animal-ness.

A girl knows within the first five minutes.

Since you’ve been getting laid, I like you. Keep it
Pregnancy isn’t a surprise. It’s what people do
when they’re idle. What keeps people

silent: the girl found face down in the Nicomekl River.
That night, she happened so easy. Everyone thinks
trust is being able to close your eyes, but really

it’s keeping them open. Clusters of cul-de-sacs, flurries
of taillights: the backseat a taste you can’t trust.
She was breath on the window.