By: Jaclyn Desforges
I know you, he says, and he’s wrong.
Somewhere inside her there is a forest
and in the forest there is a meadow
and in the meadow there is a cottage
and in the cottage she’s peeling potatoes
and boiling water for soup.
Confident of her whereabouts in a way
only a man can be confident,
he’s two towns over at the abandoned church
pounding on the door.
Can’t stop seeing cockroaches
and I’ve never had a cockroach.
Want to tell you — I had a ball gown.
Want to tell you — someone threw the bouquet.
I think it was me. In my dreams no one RSVPs
to my wedding, the snow-white sheet
where I lay my belongings for inspection.
Empty jam jars, Tupperware, handkerchiefs
no one’s sneezed in. I’d invite you inside
but there’s nothing of note. Just the oak
that poisons me and feeds the deer.
I’ll leave the door open. Come in.
Don’t wipe your feet. I’m wild and available
for public consumption, stones falling from my mouth,
making a mess of the floor. And the roots,
the cuttings never take —
not in soil, not in water.
Jaclyn Desforges is a writer, editor and writing workshop facilitator. She is the winner of the 2018 RBC/PEN Canada New Voices Award. Her poetry has been featured or is forthcoming in Contemporary Verse 2, Minola Review, Mortar Magazine, Literary Mama and Peregrine. Jaclyn is currently studying creative writing at the University of British Columbia's MFA program.
“To me, HOME ADDRESS is a poem about a speaker whose inner life is misunderstood by others. That being said, this is one of my favourite pieces because I find that readers have varied interpretations of it.
PARTY GIRL is a poem that sort of appeared whole. I was having difficulty in a relationship at the time I wrote it, and I was in a state of complete emotional surrender. I wasn't entirely sure what it was saying until I went through the editing process. In its final form, it's a poem about vulnerability and strength, purity and filth, and above all, acquiescence.”