Amelia Zhou


“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

Conjure a frame without risk.
Book of September, Liminal Magazine, 2023

where I move, shadows up the root
 Chained pastoral, Ambit, 2022

She liked being rubbed over, secured, stretched around
Bright, Gold Prize - Prose, Creative Future Writers' Awards, 2021

scrunched up emphasis of form unravelled
○ Three poems in LUMIN Journal, 2021

in breakneck wanting sunlight position
Mouth piece, Overland, 2021

Out — look out here — every out — you saw
This is where you hear the echo, Cordite Poetry Review, 2020

How far her hair blows back in the hard head wind of fall
○ Three poems in Datableed, 2020

The information starts as a product of someone else's dream
Ghost within the ghost, Gutter Magazine, 2020

(Who moves closer to the distance you are carrying, the circumstance into that distance
Body double, Rabbit Poetry Journal, 2019


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