Claire Marie Anderson 
natural beauty
she walks,
down the street with no socks
on.
legs freshly waxed
with an at-home wax kit,
skin still shiny
with oil, and red
with battle scars
and goosebumps.
she is even
more confident than she was
yesterday, now
with no hair there,
on limbs ending in toes
freshly exposed.
with a full head—
inflated up to a number
high on a natural disaster scale.
boys stare, but it’s not for them
to care, so she doesn’t.
because her legs
are attached to her body,
and not anyone else’s.
.
Even Dr. Robin Zasio cares more than you
Claire Marie Anderson is an Art History student, writer, and pseudo-bohemian from Houston, TX. Her poetry has appeared in The Decadent Review, The Magazine, and Greatest City Collective. She serves as Fiction Reader for Landing Zone Magazine.
Why we chose these pieces:
“natural beauty”: This poem has a beautiful glow to it, and we love how the lines about goosebumps and battle scars champion imperfection. Back in the day, the EIC used to have this waking nightmare that a random guy (who looked oddly like Ethan Embry) would run up to her screaming “SHAVE CHECK!” before skimming a hand up her calf. Because she was never the type to shave regularly, said fictional monster would denounce her to the masses, then run along to terrorize the next person. This poem is the antithesis of that.
“Even Dr. Robin…”: We never thought we’d see a Hoarders reference in a poem, but we’re here for it. Claire’s voice absolutely pops off the page, and the intensity is great. We’re suckers for poems that play with formatting, and “you drunk dumb bunny” is our new favorite insult.
