In these poems, Liz Breslin traces her own truths through Siri, Cixous, supermarkets, spin cycles, pillow gaps facing away from the door and kissing with tongues at the traffic lights. Excavating feminism, mothering and queerness, she writhes into unexamined spaces, using form to play her way. She writes for the ear, for the page, for the body and mind. These are poems you’ll want to get in and out of bed with.
This is Liz Breslin’s second poem collection, part of which won the 2020 Kathleen Grattan Prize for a Sequence of Poems. Her first collection, Alzheimer’s and a spoon, was listed as one in the NZ Listener’s Top 100 Books of 2017. Liz was a virtual resident at the National Centre for Writing, UK, in February 2021, where she documented life through the peregrine webcam on Norwich Cathedral in a collection called Nothing to see here. In April 2020 she co-created The Possibilities Project with Dunedin UNESCO City of Literature.
This collection centers on a woman's perspective, walking a tightrope between domestic poetry (with such subjects as how to do the washing, poems about raising children, etc.) and big picture feminism, which Liz deftly brings down to a human level, despite lofty poem titles about where and what the feminists are doing. Some of these poems show their eagerness and read as quite earnest, particularly those involving the speaker's son, while others have no trouble flipping the bird, so to speak, at their subject and subsequently perhaps even the reader. Liz's book finds a home here with the small press, Dead Bird Books, and this proves a happy fit. Having read several other Dead Bird Books such as Hadassah Grace's How to Take off Your Clothes, these books can always be counted on to tell things straight – no words are minced, and no bullshit is allowed. Editor Dom Hoey is quite good at this, and has put together a small collection of printed books that read well together. I would say in this way, all DBBs are a bit "risky" but also incredibly human, and almost cosy in their confidential tone. The reader feels taken in by Liz's words, trusting her perspective and her subjects to do what it says on the tin. (4/30)
I really like the way Breslin plays with textual form in this collection; I think it adds much to the reading experience seeing words dance around on the pages.