Weeds grow where they want to; not where they're told to...


Mara Adamitz Scrupe

An astonishing collection from the runner-up of the 2019 erbacce-prize for poetry from approximately EIGHT THOUSAND entries world-wide. To buy a signed copie click on the cover... to buy direct from erbacce-press please visit our 'Shop' (Top right of this page)

From cobwebs to French knots, tapestries to sutures, Eat the Marrow traces a vast array of textures and gestures through all of their ‘intricacies and simplicities.’ In pressing tones of wonder, this series braids thought and feeling with snatches of story, sweeping us up in a flurry of phrases then slowing us down with words firm as prayer beads. The scenes Adamitz-Scrupe has chosen to render attest to the trembling of love and attachment in music elaborate as it is natural. Spaces gracefully open and close in the layered sounds of these stirring poems. I felt like an understudy lost in the folds of the curtain offstage, overhearing the tones of a play I knew well and yet not well enough.


Eric Berlin, poet and winner of the UK National Poetry Prize and the University of Canberra Vice - Chancellor’s Prize for Poetry



The poems in Mara Adamitz Scrupe's Eat the Marrow hurtle and reel ‘towards some holier communion.’ Their headlong reveries reach ‘beyond the human unhearable’ through music that rivets and zings. Here is an almanac of florid geology and rhapsodic cultivation, a mirabilia of ‘astonishing / intricacies & simplicities’ in which the substantiating sensuality of intent listening reveals a world that is ‘unreiterably enflowered.’ If, as Hopkins says, ‘million-fueled, nature's bonfire burns on,’ its heat is rarely as precise and perpetual as in these poems--or as passionately tuned to spiritual and environmental urgency. I trust the hum that runs through them, and all they summon.


Zachary Savich, author of Diving Makes the Water Deep









Eat the Marrow cuts into the heart like a stone blade cuts into a carcass—conjuring both death and meal, sacrifice and communion. In rushing, musically-driven verse, these poems grapple with humanity’s bottomless and ongoing history of violence, greed, and unquenchable desire. Innocence might be lost, but hope isn’t: even as knowledge corrupts and the natural world is made barren by abuse, Mara Adamitz Scrupe hints at what we might become, if we choose to listen “beyond the human unhearable.”


Anders Carlson-Wee, author of The Low Passions