In Where We're Going, We Don't Need Roads, aliens and time machines, Lambrusco and apocalyptic first kisses, broken relationships and breast-shaped mountains are perfect companions for a delicate dance through Hill Valley, Wagamama and potato fields in Nepal. The language, open-hearted and burlesque, is lifted from hyptherapy podcasts, ad agency jargon, the fine distillate of the worst things we think about ourselves. These are poems alive with tingling histamines and humming generators. They slip between lines of conversation, sneak into your bedroom at night, haunt your dreams.
Amy Acre is a writer and performer from London who writes impetuous, lecherous rhymes to reclaim a soul sold for a career in advertising. She has featured at Latitude, Secret Garden Party, the Edinburgh Fringe and in pubs, bars and fields across the UK. Amy's work has received commendations from Magma and South Bank Poetry and appeared in Poetry Review, Popshot, Rising and Rhyming Thunder: The Alternative Book of Young Poets. She has been Poet in Residence at Bang Said the Gun and at London Bridge tube station, and was co-host of open mic night Sage & Time. Amy likes lists, noodle soup, existentialism, hugs and swearing.