Claire Dougherty
The Substitute
I was going over the process of mummification
with fifth graders, learning as I went
over the steps with them. A mummy’s eyes
were removed and replaced with fake ones
to last forever while the real ones deteriorated.
I wrote “fake eyes” on the chalkboard,
imagining a man who feels his way through the dark
endlessly. Later, excavating in a public garden
with others whom I did not know, I found
a body. Blood spilled from out of the dirt
and I carried around his body parts in a bag
until the time was right to reveal my discovery—
his eyes, the real ones which proved his identity
as the one we had all been looking for.
Four Days of Rain
Today I bled for the first time in four years!
My eggs like a child’s face, my healthy eggs
I must use or else they are useless.
My eyes inside my bored skull leaking
from under the dry laundry waiting to be folded.
My own face bumping into the face of my mother
who insists she looks more like my sister.
My ear which symbolizes something, possibly
the whole world, I made bleed
and when the wound dries I’ll make it bleed again
because I love the way it sounds!
3/15/2026 (Evil Daughter)
I’m an evil daughter, all daughters are so cruel
With tight faces moving like panthers around
Homes and plots of land which they defend with their
Soak-stained Adriatic, wishing there were more female
glowing purple eyes found in the Overworld, Nether,
Naps, shut the fuck up! Stop spending time
Under the machine. I’m drinking peppermint tea
To figure things out. I don’t like to see pictures
Of so many things, including the fact that
I remembered that I had an IUD inside me
And it entered my apartment slowly, diagonally
Like in the accident at the intersection when I called
Night and then it came over a mountain very far away
And saw my neighbor also with her dirty laundry
Claire Dougherty's debut poetry collection is Guilt, Fear, and Superstition (Food, 2026).