Written in quarantine, Jones addresses the apocalyptic in passionate poems of love and tenacity. Personalized by his grief and embodied by the ghosts of cultural icons like Diahann Carroll and Richard Pryor, this collection reckons with American history in constant conversation with its present.

Revilla writes of Oiwi history and culture, often through the matrilineal lens, skillfully weaving English and Hawaiian language throughout. The poems’ imagery is especially striking; skin and blood from wounds and transformation tie the collection together, firmly grounding stories of queer love in the Hawaiian landscape.

Janae's poems carry us through making peace with the violent acts that shape us; here, both the abuse suffered by Janae's relatives at the hands of their grandfather and a larger culture of accepted state violence.

Liu's poems slowly reveal the hardship of being between countries, parents, and cultures, using borders as a theme to communicate the ways we can be isolated from those around us.

Global politics is personal in this collection, whose backdrop is the Salvadoran Civil War. Guardado crafts poems that explore how issues of homeland and heritage have impacted generations of her family. We learn that her name is "a barrier" in English, while in El Salvador, "My name is a destination." This book is about Guardado's journey from here to there.

Minor is a "traveling siren screaming slow jams" in this debut collection that charms in its lyric originality. Writing poems that wonder as she wanders, Minor has a gift for using unconventional imagery, challenging readers to view what is familiar in interesting, nuanced ways.

Ross writes with a critical feminist eye, contemplating nature versus nurture. These poems sneak up on you; at once tender and evocative, this collection considers motherhood in an anxious world with a sense of soft foreboding.

Crafted with care and respect, Belk's poems of professional wrestling personalities use their lives and personas as an entry point for examining culture, masculinity, and identity.

Elhillo writes of her coming of age as a Muslim girl and, more broadly, of gender violence and the female experience. These poems inhabit an epic framework that imagines a world beyond the everyday, accepted violence that mars any attempt to live while female.

Cortez writes of her family's history in the American West, taking inspiration from the boldness of her ancestors' Afropioneerism and linking it to her modern trailblazing experiences.

In language lush with Southern gothic and religious motifs, Salazar mines his experience as a queer Latinx person of color growing up in Mississippi to write visceral poems of reclamation that extend beyond their scope of reference and linger with the reader long after the last page.

A revelatory collection: Clark writes poems of erasure and inclusion, translating Braille, American Sign Language, and Protactile while using his own experience as a DeafBlind person to challenge dominant modes of communication in inventive, scholastic, and often humourous ways.

Ruminant, witty, and evocative, these poems travel around the country, picking up anecdotes and insights.

Telling the story of his troubled upbringing in West Virginia, Meadows' lyrical descriptions of the hardships of parental abandonment and neglect render a child’s terrible reality with a strange and jarring beauty.

A deep dive into the Jonestown Massacre, this collection contains haunting poems that encapsulate the lives of those who perished there. darlene anita scott writes beyond the headlining event to eulogize the disremembered.

Bandukwala's debut collection imagines a poetic biography and an alternate future for Mughal Empress Mumtaz Mahal, namesake of the Taj Mahal. Challenging notions of empire, monumentalism, and gender roles, these poems span time and geographic boundaries to revisit a historical legacy.

Levin talks of our future and that of Earth, her past, and change, all with encyclopedic references to great thinkers and humanity’s collective knowledge that make the reader feel their part in creating the work.

There's a note of desperation in this collection's title, but linguistic energy fills the pages of Mulalu's book of poems. Navigating the seasons in verse that confess and inquire, this book challenges identity politics - with a wink and a nod to the work of Sylvia Plath.

Melnick's poems reflect the intensity of her subject matter, confronting anti-Semitism and misogyny in a voice fierce in its affirmation of female agency and empowerment.

Hughes gives a skillful and unabashed poetic rendering of the complex emotional landscape of being a Black queer man in America, especially when faced with the continuous fear of anti-Black violence. These poems are sparse and imagistic at times, prosaic at others, but always filled with tension and vulnerability.

Resonant with the blues, Smith's poems reside in the wake of the Tulsa Race Massacre of 1921, telling the rich, epistolic love story of Beatrice and Jim, an imagined couple whose atmospheric world is made alive through Southern Black vernacular and community.

Warrener leads the reader through an exploration of the creative process of our art and ourselves, and the inspirations we find around us for both of these pursuits.

Lopez's examinations of fatherhood, masculinity, family, and country are touching for their frank portrayal of the ways we try and the ways we fail each other.

This collection marks a roaring return to the genre for Cisneros, whose last book of poetry was published more than 20 years ago. Writing readers through a narrative, poetic tour of her life, these poems are frank, emotional, quirky, and engaging.

Choi contextualizes our current dystopian moment in her latest work with poems that handily weave the common threads between endings in the world, of the world, and of an individual's world.