1 poem
by Claire Denson
Claire Denson's work appears in Salt Hill, Booth, the minnesota review, and Massachusetts Review, among others. She holds a BA from the University of Michigan and an MFA from the University of North Carolina at Greensboro, where she taught courses and served on the editorial staff for The Greensboro Review. She reads for The Adroit Journal and currently lives in Brooklyn, NY. More about Claire at clairedenson.com.
Bio Myth
Claire Denson is a late American poet, dates
unknown. Her number is published in Sharpie
on stall walls. She’s published with a stick
in the dirt. Locals dig up Claire’s grave
each season. She’s dancing on the bridge
in Michigan, cradling still beating
hearts ripped from the rib cages
of bears. She eats river muck; her mouth
foams waterfalls. Her grave refills itself
overnight. She bathes with alligators
in autumnal leaves and currently lives
in a commune where she never does
the dishes. Claire’s work concerns
the train coyote. Her work concerns
the exit row. She writes in guttural
code and speaks to the unknown. Stardust
cannibal, she clothes her mirror. She writes
at her desk in the dark. Her knife’s
the source of light. She currently lives alone.