Aimee Mackovic's sensual, often formal poems look backward to note "The sun / never climbs the same way twice, nor is it meant to," and forward to beg "bruise me, life / any way you wish / that I might conquer / myself and others." Here, there are moving tributes to New York and Paris and the poet's family of origin, but mostly these are love poems to the self-"relax, Mackovic," "my heart me," and "Thank you / to my voice, my stomach, my spine..."-in tender defiance of how young girls so often have the uniqueness and spirit conditioned right out of them. A literal heart is "malformed" under a doctor's scalpel," a figurative heart has the "sequin flare" of the Tin Man's reward, and a beloved childhood doll is a "silent anchor / stringing all your yous together." For a speaker who nearly never spoke, Mackovic's poems celebrate existence in rich visceral detail, lay bare her bloody, beating essence to remind us that we're all love junkies of a sort-and what on earth is wrong with that? --Stacia M. Fleegal author of Anatomy of a Shape-Shifter and antidote
About the Author
Aimee Mackovic is a poet and professor of English at Austin Community College and Keiser University, Her poems have appeared in Shark Reef, Delaware Poetry Review, 94Creations, Main Street Rag, and others. She holds a BA from Wake Forest University and an MFA from Spalding University. Her chapbook, A Sentenced Woman, was published by Finishing Line Press in 2007. She has two self-published chapbooks, Potpourri (2015) and Dearly Beloved: the Prince poems (2016), available at aimeemackovic.com.