Bøker av Amy Acre

A lyrical excavation of trauma and healing in the midst of early motherhood - the debut work of an endlessly inventive poet whose work 'fizzes with energy, physicality, and the levitating openness of song' (Rebecca Tamás)My child, monthsfrom the womb, hung from my teeth.I ferried her by the neck and saw her deatheverywhere.Award-winning poet Amy Acre's debut collection Mothersong is a book for our contemporary moment and the moments which follow it, also; an unforgettable, unflinching excavation of motherhood, what it means to be a female artist, and what it means to be a poet with a deeply integrated community.

Amy Acre's second pamphlet reaches both arms out to the wild of being woman, the blood of being mother, the tragedy of being human. From deep within the dark of these poems, there is resolve; there is love; there is light.

In 'Where We're Going, We Don't Need Roads', aliens and time machines, Lambrusco and apocalyptic first kisses, broken relationships and breast-shaped mountains are perfect companions for a delicate dance through Hill Valley, Wagamama and potato fields in Nepal. The language, open-hearted and burlesque, is lifted from hypnotherapy podcasts, ad agency jargon, the fine distillate of the worst things we think about ourselves. These are poems alive with tingling histamines and humming generators. They slip between lines of conversation, sneak into your bedroom at night, haunt your dreams.