Crow, Pirate, Fly is a glitching manifesto of pain, pleasure, domination and submission. A power play of identities, authors, lovers and mothers, Hannah Silvas long-awaited second collection is subversive and compelling, intimate and estranging, animal and alien. Ten years in gestation, this genre-queering text began as a cut up of Kathy Ackers literary terrorism with E.L. James Fifty Shades of Grey, and now emerges as its own thing dark, wild, innovative and pregnant with desire. There are no safe words.
Strange, and poignant, and timely and timeless on care and gender and parenting. Rachael Allen
I was swept along by Crow, Pirate, Fly: its raw emotive power, its mixture of constraint and overspill, and its orchestral evocation of birth and early mothering. This is a tremendous new collection from an endlessly inventive and surprising poet. Sarah Howe
No writer I know in drama is as brave or as vulnerable. Hannah Silva talks to another hinterland of the mind. Fiona Shaw
