Debut Collection
Debut Collection
“Relentless in pursuit of a feminist form, This Fragile Thing is virtuosic in its blending of visual and textual poetics to ask: how can poetry hold the body in all its glory and all its trauma?”
CAITLIN MALING
WHEN KAREN LOWRY was 16, her grandfather was convicted of sexually abusing her. This poetry collection is a raw, unflinching testimony created from the wreckage. Darkly funny, vulnerable, and often confronting, Karen blends memoir, poetry and collage to give language back to the unspeakable. This Fragile Thing is Karen’s own act of witness: what breaks us leaves evidence.
“Lowry’s book is arresting, both visually and poetically. An exorcism, a bloodletting, and a testament to the hard-won courage it takes to speak up. Fans of Laurie Halse Anderson and Tracey Emin will find a bracing new voice in This Fragile Thing.”
ELIOSE GRILLS
Poems from this collection have been published in Cordite, Australian Poetry Journal 14.2, Australian Poetry Digital 2025, Jacaranda Journal, Creatrix Poetry 73, Writer’s Victoria’s The Streets are Darker Without You Here, and Hunter Writer’s Centre Grieve volume 10.
Product will ship on September 1st 2026 or pickup your copy at the book launch by selecting this option during checkout.
“Lowry’s book is arresting, both visually and poetically. An exorcism, a bloodletting, and a testament to the hard-won courage it takes to speak up. Fans of Laurie Halse Anderson and Tracey Emin will find a bracing new voice in This Fragile Thing.”
ELIOSE GRILLS
Content warning
My work includes references to sexual violence, childhood abuse, domestic violence, death, eating disorders, self harm, medical trauma, attempted suicide, suicide, alcoholism and substance abuse issues, pregnancy loss, poverty, housing instability, forced adoption, and bullying. Please read this site with care.
This Fragile Thing
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September 2026
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This Fragile Thing • September 2026 •
“Relentless in pursuit of a feminist form, This Fragile Thing is virtuosic in its blending of visual and textual poetics to ask: how can poetry hold the body in all its glory and all its trauma?”
— Caitlin Maling
This Fragile Thing is a vulnerable poetic memoir about how I have survived childhood trauma and sexual abuse. It exposes the lasting impacts of childhood sexual abuse, the institutions that failed me, and the family who chose him over me.
I’m not believed even now. Facts are the seeds men have intentionally planted, everything else that happened is just weeds.
This book is very critical of the political and social conventions that meant I was blamed for what happened to me, blamed for disclosing. I use my story to challenge the idea that my vulnerability in that moment was a personal failing, a failure on my part to make the right decisions, to keep myself safe. I know this now: I am not responsible for my trauma.
My father and my mother were abused as children. These heirlooms are in excellent condition when they are passed down to me. My neck is stuck inside the handle of a fine China cup my grandmother keeps on display. I smile at my uncles, who visit, but do not talk to me.
Growing up dad, you could sleep through anything,
x a n a x blunts the key
you pass d o w n t o m e . I ’ m 2 3
how many swear
words can you fit
in one suicide note
before Facebook takes it down?
you’ve locked the gate, the key under
the mat is missing. I hold my own childhood trauma
and find, the pins do not align.
My husband and I climb on top of bins, hang from the balcony
like drooping flags there’s no breeze here
our pollen doesn’t travel far from your [locked door].
The book itself is fragmented, mixing court documents, confessional poetry, and mixed media collage to mirror how disorienting living through trauma actually is. There is no contents page, no page numbers, because trauma cannot be easily navigated or understood.
You’re sleeping when we get in. I find your keys
and hold them with my own.
How fast will the metal e r o d e
in the flood waters of my home? The river between us
rises
debris from your last breakdown
fills the room. A bitchy set of drawers floats past,
a fucking selfish dinner set that’s never used.
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This newsletter continues the story This Fragile Thing started—sharing my ongoing lived experience as a survivor of childhood sexual abuse. In my newsletter. I also share a lot of work-in-progress and recent news: see the designs I’m working on this month, hear about new events and publications, get discounts codes for my books and workshops.