In MOTHERLOVER, many selves speak: sister, lover, mother, stranger. All speak, though, from one "body bearing up under puzzlement," and they speak, not pretending to hear "angels in the music of a difficult landscape," but with more imposing purport: to "weird the gray-scale quality of my life." Ginger Ko's poetry epitomizes poetry's purchase, its capacity to contest the pervasive forces of grayness, of uniformity and conformity. MOTHERLOVER is formidable, a fierce weirding. -H. L. Hix • Ginger Ko's MOTHERLOVER is at once supplication and rebuff. I've been going back again and again to the book for its moments of airtight agony, unsparing in their demands. Despite everything: MOTHERLOVER doesn't want your sympathy. MOTHERLOVER doesn't want your disdain. MOTHERLOVER doesn't want your loyalty, even. It only wants you to let it alone, sit back down, and think about the errors of your ways. -Fanzine, Grace Shuyi Liew • SECOND EDITION. This title has been redesigned and updated since the its initial release in April 2015.