{"title":"New Release","description":"","products":[{"product_id":"seasonal-book-bundle","title":"Spring Book Bundle","description":"\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 0.875rem;\"\u003eWelcome Spring Book Bundlers! With this one-time purchase you will receive a box with all titles from Boa's spring season.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003ch4\u003eThis Spring Book Bundle includes the following Spring 2026 paperback books:\u003cem\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cspan\u003e\u003cem\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\n\u003c\/h4\u003e\n\u003cul\u003e\n\u003cli\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003e\u003cem\u003eSplashed Things\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e, poems by Leigh Lucas\u003cbr\u003e\n\u003c\/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003e\u003cem\u003eAt the Gate\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cem\u003e, \u003c\/em\u003epoems by Lucille Clifton\u003c\/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003e\u003cem\u003eAugust, September, October\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e, poems by Craig Morgan Teicher\u003c\/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003e\u003cem\u003eThe Committee of Men\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e, poems by James Ciano\u003c\/li\u003e\n\u003cli\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003e\u003cem\u003eThis Elegance\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e, poems by Derrick Austin\u003c\/li\u003e\n\u003c\/ul\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFor an even greater discounts and incentives, check out our annual \u003ca href=\"https:\/\/boaeditions.org\/book\/subscriptions\/\"\u003eBoa Book Lovers Subscription\u003c\/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"https:\/\/www.boaeditions.org\/products\/subscriptions\"\u003e.\u003c\/a\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"BOA Editions, Ltd.","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46274578612453,"sku":"","price":60.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0982\/0178\/files\/SpringBundleIG_3.jpg?v=1783707369"},{"product_id":"this-elegance","title":"This Elegance","description":"\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eInterweaving the sacred and the erotic, \u003cem\u003eThis Elegance\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cem\u003e \u003c\/em\u003eengages with visual arts through the concept of \u003cem\u003esacra conversazione\u003c\/em\u003e \u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cspan\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e(“sacred conversation”), a style of Renaissance painting that imagines divine communion across time and space. \u003c\/strong\u003eHere, artists, thinkers, and pop icons commune in a similar sacred dialogue—Kathleen Collins, André Leon Talley, Richmond Barthé, Lyle Ashton Harris, Juan de Pareja, Janelle Monáe, Symone, and others appear as guiding spirits and creative kin.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFor a Black, queer person so often dislocated from time and place, pleasure becomes an act of resistance—a grounding in the now. \u003cem\u003eThis Elegance\u003c\/em\u003e is a love song—an offering to Black artistry, a tribute to visionary lives, and a testament to the power of beauty in even our most precarious moments.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003ch3\u003ePraise for Derrick Austin\u003c\/h3\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003e “Austin’s poems are bounded by conditions of extremity, but unfold, with delicacy and in repose, between those conditions.\" \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e—Ray McDaniel, \u003cem\u003eThe Constant Critic\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003e“In Austin’s hands, the exquisite can be ominous while the grotesque can turn charming, and his poems wisely assert that the world is unforgiving and yet full of mercy—that one can question beauty and yet still be beholden to it.” \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e—\u003cem\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e“Austin is a lyrical architect, rendering with urgency and plain-spokenness what is arguably the most challenging kind of loneliness: that experienced amidst others.” \u003cstrong\u003e—Phillip B. Williams,\u003cem\u003e NPR\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003ch4\u003eArt Restorer\u003c\/h4\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWhat are these figures up to? Who knows.\u003cbr\u003eIt’s hard to read a weathered expression.\u003cbr\u003eIn an apron, I arrange my tools in rows:\u003cbr\u003ecotton swabs to clean faded, celestial hose,\u003cbr\u003ea scalpel for wax on a distant mountain.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWhat are these figures up to? Who knows\u003cbr\u003eif angels can curse or grieve Golgotha’s woes.\u003cbr\u003eLeading our gaze, accessories to Magdalene\u003cbr\u003eand Christ, they show us what to feel. Suppose\u003cbr\u003ethey look like us, their faces a lost reflection?\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWhat are these figures up to? Who knows.\u003cbr\u003eThe panel cracked from heat. An x-ray shows\u003cbr\u003epatterns in the wood I preserve or recondition.\u003cbr\u003ePicture its candlelit past: a draft blows\u003cbr\u003eagainst chafed pilgrims wrapped in sheepskin.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eRecovering the shades and shadows\u003cbr\u003eof different eras and other worlds, I imagine\u003cbr\u003eI do good work here. At last, this corner glows.\u003cbr\u003eCenturies of varnish dissolve. Sickly yellows\u003cbr\u003eleave Mary’s face. Her eyes are wet and sanguine.\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"BOA Editions, Ltd.","offers":[{"title":"Paperback","offer_id":47926088106213,"sku":null,"price":19.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true},{"title":"Hardcover","offer_id":47926088138981,"sku":null,"price":35.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true},{"title":"Ebook","offer_id":49920399900901,"sku":null,"price":5.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0982\/0178\/files\/ThisElegance_CVR_1600px_RGB_LG.jpg?v=1760729102"},{"product_id":"the-committee-of-men","title":"The Committee of Men","description":"\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eJames Ciano’s debut collection, \u003cem\u003eThe Committee of Men\u003c\/em\u003e, explores the cycles of violence men inflict on one another and themselves, examining how silence, shame, and inherited expectations shape masculine identity.\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cspan\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e \u003c\/strong\u003eRooted in the speaker’s experience as a college athlete from a family of athletes—including a father who is a high school football coach—these poems confront the emotional weight of tradition and the often-unspoken struggles of male intimacy, mental illness, and familial pressure.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eThrough sharp lyricism and emotional honesty, Ciano delves into themes of belonging and exile, accountability and forgiveness, and the quiet damage done by historically unexamined masculinity, asking what it means to break these generational cycles without severing connection, and how healing might emerge in places where vulnerability is discouraged or denied. The result is a collection that is both unflinching and deeply humane—an urgent, resonant debut that refuses to look away.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003ch3 dir=\"ltr\"\u003ePraise for \u003cem\u003eThe Committee of Men\u003c\/em\u003e\n\u003c\/h3\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003e“In this haunted and haunting book of initiations, James Ciano takes on a past and a subject matter seldom encountered in poetry—the harsh, glaring, unpoetical world of grueling masculinity. With John Keats and James Wright as two of his guides, he uses the transformative power of poetry to confront and transfigure his longstanding demons. This deeply humane collection left me shaking, shocked, and enthralled.” \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e—Edward Hirsch, author of \u003cem\u003eStranger by Night \u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003e“James Ciano’s exquisite debut, \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cem\u003eThe Committee of Men\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cspan\u003e\u003cem\u003e,\u003c\/em\u003e offers striking meditations on masculinity reminiscent of B.H. Fairchild and Philip Levine. Brilliantly tender, after reading it, this collection will compel you to do as the speaker’s beloved asks: ‘Start again, from the beginning.’” \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e—Nicole Sealey, author of \u003cem\u003eThe Ferguson Report: An Erasure\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003e“In poems that slalom vertiginously between tenderness, self-reproach, an insider’s vexed relationship to toxic masculinity, and love, James Ciano portrays with great deftness a young man’s coming-of-age. ‘I never said yes, but I never said no,’ admits the speaker as he tries to understand, without making excuses for himself, a past that troubles him. Reading these wide-ranging, unpredictable poems, I find myself swept into a world of boys and men pressured to perform a certain kind of masculinity; I also find myself terribly moved by the speaker’s vivid, unsparing, and ultimately loving portraits of his family, with whom he seems both insider and outsider. The emotional depth and maturity of these poems is a remarkable achievement, one that speaks from a pact of silence rarely broken. Perhaps what I most admire is Ciano’s unwillingness to point fingers, holding himself accountable as he carries his readers into a mind aswirl with grief, longing, disbelief, and empathy.” \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e—Catherine Barnett, author of \u003cem\u003eSolutions for the Problem of Bodies in Space\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003e“The poems in \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cem\u003eThe Committee of Men\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cspan\u003e reflect the raw psyche and palpable pain we find in Robert Lowell’s poetry or, more recently, in the late poems of Larry Levis; but Ciano is also echoing the kind of grace and persistence we see in Philip Levine’s poem of illness and masculinity, ‘Having Been Asked ‘What Is a Man?’ I Answer.’ I always turn to James Ciano’s work for its compassion and its intimacy.” \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e—David St. John, from the \u003cem\u003eForeword\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003ch3\u003e\n\u003cbr\u003eThe Committee of Men (Autumn)\u003c\/h3\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSeason of mists and major episodes,\u003cbr\u003edewed grass, mammoth white lights\u003cbr\u003elike boiled eggs above the bleachers.\u003cbr\u003eWas it aberrant, the sky, against\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ethe empty fields? I pushed my body\u003cbr\u003eto the point I stopped feeling it. No,\u003cbr\u003estopped feeding it. A mania of mists.\u003cbr\u003eAberrant mind like a mammoth white\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003emirror. The beginning of October,\u003cbr\u003edewed grass, last gallops of light out\u003cbr\u003eof the sky. If the body is not a body\u003cbr\u003eis a door is a frame. Watercolored\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003efaces over the fence. Suicide\u003cbr\u003ewas later, but failure thatched itself\u003cbr\u003ebehind my eyes. Alone inside\u003cbr\u003ethe empty fields October lives or dies.\u003cstrong\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"BOA Editions, Ltd.","offers":[{"title":"Paperback","offer_id":47926094102757,"sku":null,"price":19.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true},{"title":"Hardcover","offer_id":47926094135525,"sku":null,"price":35.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true},{"title":"Ebook","offer_id":49920395247845,"sku":null,"price":5.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0982\/0178\/files\/TheCommitteeOfMen_CVR_1600px_RGB_LG.jpg?v=1760729875"},{"product_id":"at-the-gate-uncollected-poems-1987-2010","title":"At the Gate: Uncollected Poems 1987-2010","description":"\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eAt the Gate\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cspan\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e gathers more than seventy previously unpublished poems by the iconic American poet Lucille Clifton written over the last two decades of her life.\u003c\/strong\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003eDiscovered in digital archives by poet and scholar Kazim Ali, these poems span a prolific and reflective period in Clifton’s career as she shifted from typewriters to word processors and desktop computers. Many were originally drafted for publication, but set aside—until now.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eEdited by Ali, \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003ethis collection\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003e includes a contextual Foreword and detailed notes that illuminate Clifton’s late writing process and the editorial journey of these poems—deepening and expanding the themes that defined Clifton’s celebrated body of work.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eAt the Gate\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cspan\u003e is a profound and necessary addition to Clifton’s legacy—one that reaffirms her place as a poet of the body, the spirit, and the deep truths that we must endure—her voice as intimate, fearless, and luminous as ever.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003ch3 dir=\"ltr\"\u003ePraise for \u003cem\u003eAt the Gate \u003c\/em\u003e\n\u003c\/h3\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003e“This fresh brush with Clifton’s voice is nothing shy of a miracle—like a visitation from the other worlds the mighty poet herself taught so many of us to believe were real. And Kazim Ali’s meticulous framing of the drafts, variants and references making up these uncollected poems is a glorious window into how one of the essential voices of the late 20th and early 21st centuries made and understood her work.” \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e—Tracy K. Smith, 22nd Poet Laureate of the United States\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003e“\u003cem\u003eAt the Gate\u003c\/em\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003eis an astonishing concentration of language opened, attended to, dreaming. Sharpening into clarity, whispering, raging, shifting—line to line, poem to poem—across planes, these poems are traces of Black feminist paths to relation. How we have needed them. And so it feels miraculous that a new book of Lucille Clifton’s poems should come to us now. In profound and ongoing attunement with Clifton’s oeuvre, scholar, poet, and editor Kazim Ali brings to us an essential text by one of the great practitioners of our time.” \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e—aracelis girmay, author of \u003cem\u003ethe black maria\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003ch3\u003eyour life\u003c\/h3\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ei am making a mirror\u003cbr\u003eof your life.\u003cbr\u003ei am turning two fishboys\u003cbr\u003eslick as stone.\u003cbr\u003ethey will pour from me\u003cbr\u003elike each other’s cup.\u003cbr\u003ethey will call your absence\u003cbr\u003efather.\u003cbr\u003elater their faces will dry\u003cbr\u003einto twins. they will\u003cbr\u003eask in one voice\u003cbr\u003etheir father’s right name.\u003cbr\u003emake poems, i will tell them,\u003cbr\u003emake poems.\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"BOA Editions, Ltd.","offers":[{"title":"Paperback","offer_id":47926107406565,"sku":null,"price":21.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true},{"title":"Hardcover","offer_id":47926107439333,"sku":null,"price":35.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true},{"title":"Ebook","offer_id":48876373541093,"sku":null,"price":5.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0982\/0178\/files\/AtTheGate_CVR_1600px_RGB_LG.jpg?v=1760730302"},{"product_id":"august-september-october","title":"August, September, October","description":"\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cem\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eAugust, September, October\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cspan\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e is a deep, vulnerable meditation on fatherhood, time passing, and survival in a world reshaped by crisis.\u003c\/strong\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003eIn two long, diaristic poems and a constellation of lyrical reflections, this collection traces the experiences of a poet—someone very much, though not exactly, like Craig Morgan Teicher—through the emotional and existential terrain of caregiving. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cem\u003eAugust, September, October\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cspan\u003e offers a profoundly human snapshot of a family navigating disability, grief, and fleeting hope, all while trying to keep the imagination alive in an age of catastrophe.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003ch3 dir=\"ltr\"\u003ePraise for \u003cem\u003eAugust, September, October\u003c\/em\u003e\n\u003c\/h3\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003e“This gutsy book blazes with the glory of a father's love for his son.  It tells the story of Craig, Brenda, Cal, Simone, and Cashew, the dog.  Written amidst night feeds, trips to the hospital, antibiotics, and the coil of everyday life, it seems proof that poetry cannot be stamped out. In this raw, gem-like, reliquary of a book, Teicher has transmuted anger, grief, and loss into a most durable celebration of love.” \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e—Henri Cole, author of \u003cem\u003eThe Other Love\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003e“Craig Morgan Teicher has picked the bones out of what once was a memoir and used its bones to build a tower so delicate and high and magnificent, the only name beautiful and impossible enough to give this tower is POEM.  I climbed up to the very top, and I may never come down.  The view from up here is unlike anything you've ever seen.” \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e—Sabrina Orah Mark, author of \u003cem\u003eHappily\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003e“Craig Morgan Teicher makes poetry the way William Carlos Williams did, out of his life, his love, and his love of literature, yes. Aware of how the intense \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003enow\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003e has already turned into the abstracted \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003ethen\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003e. This work occurs in the now and then, is filled with details of his family suffering, of the world aflame, but the terror is in a distance that knows it's already happened—even a time scheme of three months implies a blurring, the most frightening event, eventuality, is a past, no matter the grammar. And yet these poems feel so present, so...emerging. And the terror is part of the beautiful, when it happens. And even ‘the hissing leaves have a part to play.’\"\u003cstrong\u003e \u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e—Bin Ramke, author of\u003cem\u003e Earth on Earth\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003e\"Beauty and the dark undertow of suffering are skillfully woven throughout the diaristic and companionable latest from Teicher (\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cem\u003eWelcome to Sonnetville, New Jersey\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cspan\u003e). The opening poems set up the collection’s preoccupation with constriction, imagining a dog on a leash in the garden for whom 'territory,\/ which was the whole wide yard, is diminishing.' Elsewhere, Teicher nods toward the depth of pain that underlies the seemingly light, approachable surface of the speaker’s voice: 'you have to\/ laugh at yourself and put\/ your pain in context.' The simplest domestic pleasures are ennobled and sought out: 'I just want to sit\/ on a comfy chair with a quiet\/ mind and read an interesting\/ book.' Teicher speaks directly to the easeful tone that makes the work so palatable ('Is this really all I have to do\/ and it’s poetry?') before pulling a sleight of hand and leaving the reader under no illusion as to the weight of his conversational reflections: “I want a longish line because I am desperate to talk'; 'No one\/ I love is my dead\/ mother.' This is a monumental reckoning with life’s enduring questions.\"\u003cem\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e—Publishers Weekly \u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"BOA Editions, Ltd.","offers":[{"title":"Paperback","offer_id":47926242312421,"sku":null,"price":19.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true},{"title":"Hardcover","offer_id":47926242345189,"sku":null,"price":35.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true},{"title":"Ebook","offer_id":49920418578661,"sku":null,"price":5.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0982\/0178\/files\/AugustSeptemberOctober_CVR_1600px_RGB_LG.jpg?v=1760735418"},{"product_id":"splashed-things","title":"Splashed Things","description":"\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e\u003cb\u003eWINNER of the 2026 CALIBA Golden Poppy Award in Poetry\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e“In my new life, I must learn everything again,” begins \u003cem\u003eSplashed Things\u003c\/em\u003e, Leigh Lucas’s \u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cstrong\u003edark humored and deeply moving debut that examines the chaotic terrain of grief \u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cstrong\u003efollowing the suicide of a former boyfriend.\u003c\/strong\u003e With startling honesty and emotional precision, these poems tell the story of a woman in her twenties navigating loss, from the funeral service and her dead-end job, to her therapist’s office and the subways of New York City, revealing the way her beloved’s death infiltrates every corner of her life.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThe speaker searches for traces of the departed in unlikely places—the physics of\u003cbr\u003esplashes, the history of seasickness, the science of depression—while confronting the\u003cbr\u003elimitations of elegy and the futility of trying to contain sorrow in words. \u003cem\u003eSplashed Things\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cbr\u003eis not a neat arc toward healing, but a testimony to the unwieldy shape of mourning and\u003cbr\u003ethe persistence of love in its wake.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSelected by Maya C. Popa as winner of the A. Poulin, Jr. Poetry Prize for its emotional\u003cbr\u003ecourage, inventive language, and haunting beauty, Leigh Lucas’s \u003cem\u003eSplashed Things\u003c\/em\u003e marks\u003cbr\u003ethe arrival of a powerful new voice in contemporary poetry.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003ch3\u003ePraise for \u003cem\u003eSplashed Things\u003c\/em\u003e\n\u003c\/h3\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\"'I sing so he can cry,' writes Leigh Lucas in \u003cem\u003eSplashed Things\u003c\/em\u003e, her lucid portrait of a young woman devastated by great and unexpected loss. Into these deftly built and deeply moving poems, Lucas alchemizes the memory of grief and the grief of memory, with restraint, irreverence, and a devotion so total that I can only understand it as love. I don’t know a single person who could read this book with an open heart and mind and not be made more human.”\u003cstrong\u003e —Charif Shanahan, Whiting Award-winning author of \u003cem\u003eTrace Evidence: Poems\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e“'A child’s hand in a fat grip on a fat crayon, puncturing crêpe paper' is how our speaker describes their poems. But our speaker is cataclysmically clever, and while these poems tolerate no fragile surface, their majesty far exceeds this devastating premise, allowing us into the private sacrifices a woman makes to protect the life that follows the death of the beloved. Never alone, and certainly never entirely defeated, Leigh Lucas renders the defiance, doubt, and ambition required to go on in grief with tenderheartedness and venom, humor hewn from absurdity and a sharpness of mind. Lucas reaches for complete transformation, grasping her new life with all that poetry empowers, and is most impressively real when everything fails. 'The world will be unsettled,' our poet observes. 'I will unsettle them.'” \u003cstrong\u003e—Paul Tran, author of \u003cem\u003eAll the Flowers Kneeling\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\"Leigh Lucas transmits the lasting shockwaves of grief: the anger and bitterness, blame and shame, its landsickness, and the empty shapes into which we accumulate the things left, inside the private rooms we build around the negative space grief leaves in our lives. The memories called up again and again, involuntary, changing shape each time, words once spoken replaced with new words, drawing us both closer and farther away from who and what we miss. These poems are falling apart for love, are devastatingly honest, naked, bleeding, and brutally self-searching. I'll think about them forever.\"\u003cstrong\u003e —Sarah Gerard, author of \u003cem\u003eCarrie Carolyn Coco: My Friend, Her Murder, and an Obsession with the Unthinkable\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003ch3\u003e\n\u003cem\u003eSplashed Things\u003c\/em\u003e [Page 27]\u003cstrong\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\n\u003c\/h3\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWhat happens to a body thrown?\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSome believe numbers govern splashes:\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA high Reynolds number makes them tall; a high Weber number makes them messy. \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eI appreciate attempts to lasso a slippery world, to number, measure, and taxonomize.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMy own complex systems of ordering his belongings and memorizing minutia are for putting myself through punishing mental tests of recalling exact details of his poems, drawings and letters, of his feet, palms, and the curve of his back. \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eI transcribe his words into notebooks and save them to hard drives, inboxes, and every other place I know about on the internet. Tangible Items are arranged and rearranged in various safekeeping spots. Still nothing is ever safe.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWhen you possess a brain like cheese, things go missing quickly. \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMy mother grows accustomed to my panicked calls: \u003cbr\u003e\u003cem\u003e—I promise, it’s not lost. You’ll find it when you’re ready to \u003c\/em\u003e\u003cem\u003efind it again.\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eI am pitiful at my sole pursuit: \u003cbr\u003e                                                                        Nothing must disappear.\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"BOA Editions, Ltd.","offers":[{"title":"Paperback","offer_id":47963398111461,"sku":null,"price":19.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true},{"title":"Hardcover","offer_id":47963398176997,"sku":null,"price":25.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true},{"title":"Paperback (signed)","offer_id":49454749057253,"sku":null,"price":35.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true},{"title":"Ebook","offer_id":49920416088293,"sku":null,"price":5.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0982\/0178\/files\/SplashedThings_CVR_1200px_RGB_SM.jpg?v=1761576457"},{"product_id":"blood-on-the-leaves","title":"Blood on the Leaves","description":"\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eBlood on the Leaves\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003eby Hope Wabuke is a searing and lyrical poetry collection that explores the intimate, haunted relationship between Blackness and the natural world.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003eAt once a site of refuge and rupture, nature emerges as both witness to generational trauma and a space of beauty, survival, and fierce possibility.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHewn from historical record and personal experience, these poems unearth the brutal legacy of slavery and the enduring persistence of systemic racism, tracing how violence echoes through land, body, and bloodline. Wabuke weaves history, science, and the environment into the personal—examining gender, motherhood, identity, and the Black body as sites of resistance and remembrance. \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThis collection is a powerful testament to the Black experience, survival, memory, and the enduring power of love.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003ch3 class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: normal;\"\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/h3\u003e\n\u003ch3 class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: normal;\"\u003ePraise for \u003cem\u003eBlood on the Leaves \u003c\/em\u003e\n\u003c\/h3\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: normal;\"\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: normal;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: black;\"\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\"The title of Hope Wabuke’s most recent book,\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003ci\u003eBlood on the Leaves\u003c\/i\u003e, hearkens back to what may be considered Billie Holiday’s most political song.  And like Holiday, Wabuke’s voice here is relentless in its subtleties and distinctive in its vulnerabilities:  'What is normal is this: I want to love you,\/dearest, like love is still a normal\/\/breathing thing to believe in…'  This is a one of a kind collection of poetry, a chronicle of survival.” \u003cb\u003e—\u003cspan\u003eJericho Brown, Pulitzer Prize-winning poet and author of \u003ci\u003eThe Tradition\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: normal;\"\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: normal;\"\u003e“In her second collection, Wabuke is unflinching, asking us as readers to join her in not looking away from the difficult and timely subjects the poems trace, including domestic violence, misogyny, racism, migration, and environmental collapse. The elegiac mode holds sway in this moving collection, in which personal and public histories converge in searing lyric-narrative poems. ‘In the silence\/the wind through the trees is the shaking of ghosts’ the poet declares, in one of the title poems and crown of sonnets that highlights Wabuke’s formal power. But perhaps more than any other measure, Wabuke’s truth-telling voice is the singular force throughout this collection, speaking into the ‘silence’ that threatens to undo us and confronting the ‘ghosts’ of history, memory, the land, and the body.”\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Shara McCallum, author of\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003ci\u003eBehold\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: normal;\"\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: normal;\"\u003e“\u003cem\u003eBlood on the Leaves\u003c\/em\u003e presents us with Hope Wabuke at the height of her poetic power, writing poems of deft architecture and deep wisdom, born out of a deeply examined life. Wabuke has long established herself as a poet whose vision of America is enhanced by her position as an immigrant whose poetic vocabulary is embarked on perfecting the language of this country’s imaginary.  In \u003cem\u003eBlood on the Leaves\u003c\/em\u003e, Wabuke writes with the authority and grace of a poet who dares to be vulnerable in her fierce commitment to truth-telling.  We need to pay keen attention to Hope Wabuke.” \u003cstrong\u003e—Kwame Dawes, author of \u003cem\u003eSturge Town\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003ch3 class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/h3\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003ch4 class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\n\u003cb\u003eBlood on the Leaves\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr style=\"mso-special-character: line-break;\"\u003e\u003c!--[endif]--\u003e\n\u003c\/h4\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eSometimes I think how impossibly\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003egreen it is here on the prairie\u003cbr\u003eand beautiful—grasses bursting vibrant and trees\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003elush limbed along paths, the branches of one entwined\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003ehigh above with the branches of another\u003cbr\u003ein line with another and the next, vaulting the whole\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eworld into a cathedral of green\u003cbr style=\"mso-special-character: line-break;\"\u003e\u003c!--[endif]--\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003ethat nearly veils the wide expanse\u003cbr\u003eof blue only the sky above the plains\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003ecan fishbowl into forever.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eI am not from this place. I arrived from somewhere\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eelse a decade ago. But this greening,\u003cbr\u003elong enough to seem it was always, is not\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003efrom this place either, planted\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eby the people who came here just before me and took\u003cbr\u003eby force what could not be thefted—plunging into reddened\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eearth with iron still bloody\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003efrom a thing you cannot call war\u003cbr\u003ewhen the mission was to make the people who were\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003ehere before us both into the disappeared.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"text-indent: .5in; margin: 0in 0in 0in .5in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"text-indent: .5in; margin: 0in 0in 0in .5in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eDo you know\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003ethat scent, so sweet, grass\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003egives when cut? It is not just\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003efor enjoying. It is a distress call, to all\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003egrowing things, that death is coming.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: normal;\"\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"BOA Editions, Ltd.","offers":[{"title":"Paperback","offer_id":48766244323557,"sku":null,"price":19.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true},{"title":"Hardcover","offer_id":48766244389093,"sku":null,"price":30.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0982\/0178\/files\/BloodOnTheLeaves_CVR_RGB_LG.jpg?v=1782320408"},{"product_id":"pagan-sky-new-amp-selected-poems-2000-2025","title":"Pagan Sky: New and Selected Poems 2000–2025","description":"\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003eIn these richly textured poems—crafted with taut clarity and consummate skill—Waters confronts the immutable presence of death by reveling in sensual pleasure and spiritual daring.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003eEach poem unfolds as a compelling narrative, sharpened by precise diction and lifted by lyrical grace and musical phrasing.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eWaters’ range is expansive, moving across geographies from Brooklyn to Romania, from the Dominican Republic to Greece, all while engaging in urgent political realities such as AIDS, Black Lives Matter, and authoritarian rule. He also draws on a vibrant cultural lineage that includes Caravaggio, Gwendolyn Brooks, Cesare Pavese, and Balthus.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003ePagan Sky: New and Selected Poems 2000–2025\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003epresents a body of work that affirms Michael Waters as a singular and enduring voice in American poetry and as an artist whose poems continue to deepen, resonate, and enrich his remarkable literary legacy.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003ch3\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: black;\"\u003ePraise for Michael Waters\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/h3\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e“It is difficult to imagine poetry could be more finely crafted and compelling than the work of Michael Waters, who has been quietly writing some of the best poetry in the United States for the past three decades.”\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Stephan Delbos,\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe Prague Post\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e“The consistency of his work over the past thirty years has contributed greatly to American letters, and his unique voice within the poetry world illuminates, with precision and clarity, the intricate nature of the human condition.”\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Esteban Rodriguez,\u003ci\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003eAmerican Book Review\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e“One who has written fourteen well-regarded books of poetry across nearly fifty years is still capable of producing work that ranks among his best… Michael Waters is a patient craftsman.”\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Tony Leuzzi,\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003ci\u003eNorth American Review\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e“Michael Waters is perhaps the best poet of his generation.”\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Floyd Collins,\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe Gettysburg Review\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e“Waters stands among the best American poets writing today.”\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Roberto Bonazzi,\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003ci\u003eSan Antonio Express-News\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e“Waters’s work assumes a divine erotic presence even in his most harrowing poems.”\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Judith Vollmer,\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe Georgia Review\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003ch4 style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eOtherworld\u003c\/h4\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eOur dozen or so ringed the holy well,\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eSome stooping low to cup in palms\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eCold water seeping through stone.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eThis being Ireland, two swans\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eFrothed the estuary. Someone twined\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eHer mauve scrunchie onto a branch\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eAmong pandemic masks \u0026amp; strips of scarves,\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eRagged decoration in raucous devotion.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eLapsed, I stood my ground among believers\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eWho gathered stones for cairns, who\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eBlessed themselves more than once\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eWith soppy fingers as the whole country\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eGreened around us \u0026amp; lines of poems\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eBy Kavanaugh, Heaney, \u0026amp; Boland\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eWound through sky briefly bluing.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eI listened closely to the wind-thrust words.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eWe tromped through mud back to the bus\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eIdling in mist of its own making,\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eThen raced the weak light west as rain\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eShawled our surfacing reflections.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eOur faces wept beside us as we slept.\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Boa Editions","offers":[{"title":"Paperback","offer_id":48766241571045,"sku":null,"price":19.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true},{"title":"Paperback (Signed)","offer_id":48766241603813,"sku":null,"price":30.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true},{"title":"Hardcover","offer_id":48766241636581,"sku":null,"price":30.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0982\/0178\/files\/PaganSky_CVR_RGB_SM.jpg?v=1775758093"},{"product_id":"sidekick","title":"Sidekick","description":"\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e\u003cb\u003eWritten by internationally beloved poet Naomi Shihab Nye, \u003ci\u003eSidekick\u003c\/i\u003e stands as a testament to poetry’s enduring power to bear witness.\u003c\/b\u003e With each poem, Nye affirms a truth that feels more urgent than ever: every human being deserves safety, dignity, and peace.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eDrawing on her family’s deep roots in Palestine, Nye writes with both abiding love and immeasurable heartbreak, offering intimate reflections that illuminate the human cost of conflict. Long a champion of dialogue across borders and divides, she crafts poems that are direct, conversational, and unafraid to confront the systems and structures that perpetuate harm.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eThrough her signature blend of candor, lyrical grace, and careful attention to everyday lives, Nye offers a collection that urges readers to look more closely, feel more deeply, and imagine a world in which we refuse to turn away from one another.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003ch3 class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003ePraise for Naomi Shihab Nye\u003c\/h3\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e“On every page, Shihab Nye's insistent call is the same: people, all people, deserve to live safe and healthy lives, free from fear and violence. She mourns, rages, takes politicians to task, but always lands on the side of compassion.”\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e—Shelf Awareness\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e“This poet, always America’s sweetheart, has shared her life with us through her career, warmth, and wisdom—earning our validation—and now, even more, she makes emotion and the world meld, to give an in-depth analysis of her besieged land, letting us know how it appears from inside.”\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e—Washington Independent Review of Books\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003ch4 class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eAt the Book Festival\u003c\/h4\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\"\u003eNo bombs were thrown for varying opinions, no grenades\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\"\u003ecast onto words, we felt sane for a day, mingling,\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\"\u003eas of old, with people we did or did not know, listening\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\"\u003ein unison, greeting and hugging,\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\"\u003efinding another room, tent,\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\"\u003eItalian crème cake after lunch for energy,\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\"\u003ebuying a book for its title alone, not feeling stuck\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\"\u003eor lost, on the brink of collapse,\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\"\u003eor scared of anyone else, or worried, not a bit.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\"\u003eSitting next to people we did not know,\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\"\u003eeveryone smiled. At the Book Festival we were\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 150%;\"\u003ewildly wealthy, truly democratic.\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"BOA Editions, Ltd.","offers":[{"title":"Paperback","offer_id":48766238818533,"sku":null,"price":19.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true},{"title":"Hardcover","offer_id":48766238884069,"sku":null,"price":30.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0982\/0178\/files\/Sidekick_CVR_RGB_SM.jpg?v=1775758488"},{"product_id":"bone-symphony","title":"Bone Symphony","description":"\u003cp\u003e\u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"color: rgb(0, 0, 0);\"\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eMichelle Phương Hồ’s \u003cem\u003eBone Symphony\u003c\/em\u003e mines the wreckage of colonialism and imperialist warfare in Vietnam and attempts to reassemble the bones.\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e Told in three movements spanning lyric, documentary, and hybrid forms, \u003cem\u003eBone Symphony\u003c\/em\u003e uncovers a world turned upside-down by war: evil is good, saviors are toddlers, children die before their mothers, and civil servants—like the poet’s grandfather—become enemies of the state. The detritus of a shattered nation, family, and psyche serve as building blocks Hồ rearranges with playful irreverence, giving rise to healing poetic turns. One can surrender not just to military powers, but to love. The prison cell where a dissident is held transforms into the womb of God. In a world where no symbol is stable, \u003cem\u003eBone Symphony\u003c\/em\u003e reorients us toward curiosity, kinship, and the kind of mercy that sets free those held captive within our imaginations: “Every face \/ I’ve ever held \/ hostage,” the poet beholds, “is beginning to bleed.”\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003ch3\u003ePraise for \u003cem\u003eBone Symphony\u003c\/em\u003e\n\u003c\/h3\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e“Searingly erudite, formally restless, and wrought with marrow-deep care, \u003cem\u003eBone Symphony\u003c\/em\u003e marks the astonishing arrival of a voice I’ve been waiting for for as long as I can remember. Hồ shows us not only what the poem can do, but in doing so tests the very limits of language itself. Simply one of the finest debuts in many years.” \u003cspan style=\"color: rgb(0, 0, 0);\"\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e—Ocean Vuong, author of \u003cem\u003eNight Sky with Exit Wounds\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e“I love the intense searching throughout \u003cem\u003eBone Symphony\u003c\/em\u003e. The integrity of the inquiry here creates an extraordinary sense of restlessness and openness, musicality and discord. Michelle Phương Hồ’s diverse, richly researched poems unfold with toughness and vulnerability, invention and tradition. By turns intimate and historical, wild and prayerful, Bone Symphony sings what it means to survive one’s own story. This is a monumental debut.” \u003cspan style=\"color: rgb(0, 0, 0);\"\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e—Terrance Hayes, author of \u003cem\u003eLighthead\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e“In \u003cem\u003eBone Symphony\u003c\/em\u003e, a ‘neon trickle’ conjoins a ‘seminal text,’ a mode of proximity that connects what can never die with everything that’s already over. ‘Writing books \/ when I should be dead,’ writes Michelle Phương Hồ, to devastating effect that devastates in turn.” \u003cspan style=\"color: rgb(0, 0, 0);\"\u003e\u003cstrong\u003e—Bhanu Kapil, author of \u003cem\u003eHow to Wash a Heart\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e“\u003cem\u003eBone Symphony\u003c\/em\u003e is a major work which carries into print more than I knew could be carried into print. I am startled, actually, by the immediacy of the voices here and the breathtaking ways that Michelle Phương Hồ works in language to contend with the ongoing catastrophes, as she describes it, of colonialism and imperialist war in Vietnam. Reckoning with what is unutterable, this poet makes a sound that swerves—unruled, capacious. I am breaking into something else to read these paths.”\u003cspan style=\"color: rgb(0, 0, 0);\"\u003e \u003cstrong\u003e—Aracelis Girmay, author of \u003cem\u003eGREEN OF ALL HEADS\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"BOA Editions, Ltd.","offers":[{"title":"Paperback","offer_id":48766237573349,"sku":null,"price":19.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true},{"title":"Hardcover","offer_id":48766237638885,"sku":null,"price":30.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0982\/0178\/files\/BoneSymphony_CVR_RGB_SM.jpg?v=1775759208"},{"product_id":"i-am-trying-to-love-the-whole-world","title":"I Am Trying to Love the Whole World","description":"\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003eIn her lyrical fifth collection,\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003ci\u003eI Am Trying to Love the Whole World\u003c\/i\u003e, Jenny Browne fearlessly holds grief without sentimentality and beauty without denial.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003eFor nearly a year, Browne began each poem with the line “I am trying to love the whole world,” letting it guide her through loss, love, and survival. The result is a striking meditation on human fragility and the sustaining power of art, even as life—and the world around us—can be made and unmade in an instant.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMoving between tenderness, fierceness, and wry humor, these poems mourn a beloved friend, witness the pandemic, and reflect on the politicization of women’s bodies. Browne delights in a snarky daughter scrolling TikTok, a ghost wearing her best red boots, and the music of Violetta’s aria in\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003ci\u003eLa Traviata\u003c\/i\u003e. Drawing on nature, memory, and human connection, she explores oceans, bones, motherhood, and time itself.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eMultivocal, incantatory, and precise, her work asks what it means to live with loss while remaining open to the world, finding solace in the everyday—“sky blue \/ Mustang paused on the shoulder.”\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003ch3\u003e\n\u003cb\u003e\u003c\/b\u003ePraise for \u003ci\u003eI Am Trying to Love the Whole World\u003c\/i\u003e\n\u003c\/h3\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e“This is a book of grappling after grace, of incantations and linguistic veers, of refutations of easy solace and ‘trying to praise what left us gutted.’ Jenny Browne’s work is fierce and tender all at once, and these poems brim with both loss and beauty as they bear down brilliantly on grief and the forever-failable human heart. This is a book to be awed by and to return to again and again.”\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Matt Donovan, author of\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe Dug Up Gun Museum\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e“All elegies find ways of asking if the choices we have made as humans are sorely deluded or just bearable enough. The poems in Jenny Browne’s\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003ci\u003eI Am Trying to Love the Whole World\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003estartle and shift us because they speak to this difficulty of imaginative survival in a manner that feels openly associative, multivocal, and fierce.”\u003cb\u003e\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e—Sandra Lim, author of\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe Curious Thing\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e“Like Emily getting up early to compose verses, like Tennyson mourning Arthur Hallam inordinately, or like someone accidentally telling the truth, we learn here that if you stare at any word long enough it burns. To compose, we learn, is to arrange unequal things, like your laugh and an ambulance, like a thin cardigan of sun, like the varicose afternoons of the horizon herself, like the pained vulva of Killary Harbour.”\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Medbh McGuckian, author of\u003cspan\u003e \u003c\/span\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe Unfixed Horizon: New Selected Poems\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003ch4 style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\" class=\"MsoNormal\"\u003eThe Way We Loved Those Desert Towns\u003c\/h4\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\"\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"MsoNormal\" style=\"margin-bottom: 0in;\"\u003eI am trying to love the whole world\u003cbr\u003ethe way we loved those desert towns\u003cbr\u003epassed through without imagining\u003cbr\u003ewho else we might have been\u003cbr\u003eor broken. The sound ways\u003cbr\u003eof finding water long forgotten\u003cbr\u003esave a dry hump of thunder\u003cbr\u003ethere beyond the orchard\u003cbr\u003ewhere the lush pecans drop.\u003cbr\u003eLet’s make a spell for the return trip,\u003cbr\u003ewhisper   bonefire    easysad    foreverever.\u003cbr\u003eSometimes the past best stay\u003cbr\u003ea distant persistent ringing.\u003cbr\u003eSometimes a country song\u003cbr\u003eabout starting over drifts from\u003cbr\u003einside the rusting sky blue\u003cbr\u003eMustang paused on the shoulder.\u003cbr\u003eIf you can imagine passing someone\u003cbr\u003eon this road, you might also imagine\u003cbr\u003esitting next to it all day then all night\u003cbr\u003etrying to tell the difference\u003cbr\u003ebetween the ones who would feed you\u003cbr\u003e\u0026amp; the ones who will eat you.\u003cbr\u003ePecos wind keeps reaping dust\u003cbr\u003efor the last grand Ceiba\u003cbr\u003enot here to save. Tumbleweeds\u003cbr\u003emake such fine refrain.\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"BOA Editions, Ltd.","offers":[{"title":"Paperback","offer_id":48766250189029,"sku":null,"price":19.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true},{"title":"Hardcover","offer_id":48766250254565,"sku":null,"price":30.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0982\/0178\/files\/IAmTryingToLoveTheWholeWorld_CVR_RGB_SM.jpg?v=1775759884"}],"url":"https:\/\/shop.boaeditions.org\/collections\/new-releases.oembed","provider":"Boa Editions","version":"1.0","type":"link"}