“Thirteen Reasons” is one of three trenchant yet tender poems by Matthew Meriwether in our Fall 2018 issue.

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BECAUSE ALL MY MONEY IS MADE OF MY DEAD SKIN

Because I am still trying to tell a long story to the dinner guests with a fly buzzing around my hair

Because I run toward the mirror every time I think I might look like a person

Because I’m still making eggs then throwing them in the trash, their bright yellow like daffodils or a girl in a dress laughing in a closet

Because it’s fun to pretend to have courage

Because it’s fun to pretend to die

Because I prefer spinning around an empty house

Because I wear a dress in the summer to trick all the dirty boys

Because my bucket of treats for the boys is a pile of my dead skin

Because I have sewn my skin into dresses, for tricks and for spinning around as if I were dumb

Because it’s fun to pretend you’re an unknown genius then vomit in the champagne bottle you brought with you

Because it’s fun to think of yourself as already dead, or as not having a body

Because I run to your house every time I think I know my name

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MATTHEW MERIWETHER is a writer and performer living in Fort Wayne, IN. He writes and performs music under the name Fresh Tar, and hosts events in cities across the country, including the reading series ‘Life is Sad, Here is Someone,’ and ‘A Party for All of Our Questions,’ an experimental social gathering. Matthew is recently the author of Knock Knock, a chapbook of narrative prose (Dandelion Review, 2018).