Amelia Zhou


“Early on in Amelia Zhou’s Repose, the speaker asks the reader “do all lost things live in ruins?” Ruins—as in aftermath, as in refuse, as in the rotting and wilted physical landscape—permeate this deft and roving collection of poems. Zhou’s work rests in the fleeting space of bodies in motion, the friction of bodies troubling and inhabiting spaces across planes and distances. Zhou does not attempt to still the movement. Instead, she allows it to fold and create its own repetitions, logic, and accord. All along the way, Zhou opens up a space for the spectral to exist alongside the ruins. Towards the end of Repose, she writes “All that distinguishes is a reminder there is something still from the secret, accreting.” In this way, Repose loops, billows, and folds on itself. With the patience that permeates this entire collection, Zhou simply makes a notation of this accretion and demands nothing else of it. Go slow, this collection suggests and with Zhou guiding us, we can.” — Asiya Wadud

2022 Book Prize
Wendy’s Subway

Slow Loris/Puncher & Wattmann, 2024

Selected previous

Images, FENCE (41), 2024

The Souvenir: On Antigone Kefala, Liminal Magazine, 2024

Book of September, Liminal Magazine, 2023

 Chained pastoral, Ambit (246), 2022

Bright. Awarded Gold Prize - Prose at the Creative Future Writers' Awards, 2021. Republished in the anthology Everything, All At Once (Ultimo Press, 2021).

Three poems in LUMIN Journal (4), 2021

Mouth piece, Overland (244), 2021

This is where you hear the echo, ‘Tell Me Like You Mean It’ (4) digital chapbook (Cordite Poetry Review), 2020

Three poems in Datableed (13), 2020

Ghost within the ghost, Gutter Magazine (21), 2020

Body double, Rabbit Poetry Journal (29), 2019


Performing arts criticism for Running Dog, Australian Book Review, Peril.