Early praise for Moon Woman:
Fatima Hirsi and Courtney Marie are poets of the first order: lively, inventive, wise in body and mind. They aren’t afraid to go toward the dark; in fact they run straight at it, with relish and a genuine talent for risk. Are poets dangerous? Put it this way: we ignore them at our risk, and that’s especially true with these two excellent poets, whose work is as pleasurable as it is unsettling.
In these poems, Fatima Hirsi and Courtney Marie celebrate the body in its wondrous wholeness—but there is also a record of brokenness here. These poems are a vessel containing joy and sorrow—suffering and hope. They are, in other words, much like the cup of life.
–Camille T. Dungy
Moon Woman begins “beholden to a body,” at once lyrical and sharp, an incredible collection of poems that span intimate terrain to collective memories. With deftness, she floats, submerges, and comes up for air. Her words, like testimonies, skim horizontally across the surface of her skin. There’s a tenderness that is also critical and self-aware, calling for witness after trespass. Sit with Moon Woman under a tree. Breathe in these poems, as she whispers, “feel most free beneath my gaze,” and then exhale.