Cover art, Susi Brister: Hi-Lo Rabbit on Country Road, 2013
Archival pigment print on Hahnemuhle photo rag, 32 x 32 inches
Courtesy of the artist
Alli Warren’s I Love It Though looks hard at the material and affective world we’ve inherited, including the ordinariness of the sublime and the sublimity and transcendence of what’s most ordinary. This book makes meaning of our contemporary moment, both sharp and vulnerable, concrete and musical. These poems are committed to living in the present, delirious with outrage and hope for something better.
In I Love It Though, growing authority and growing bewilderment appear to be out on a date, perhaps married, “the bottom / of the surface of the sound” never not in effect. Propelled by closely parsed internal commotion, the book is a great follow-up to Here Come the Warm Jets, itself a great follow-up to the earlier books that rightly put Alli Warren on the map as a poet to watch, be reckoned with, read and reread. — Nathaniel Mackey
Where were you when the very bird Alli Warren winged in upon opened its beak & began to speak? I was in Queens. My jaw dropped. Actually it was Alli ventriloquizing the bird, right there on my windowsill, with the pigeons in the airshaft. As I greedily thumb through the pages, honey seeps through the cracks, ‘one gape follows the next.’ — Julian Talamantez Brolaski
The title of Alli Warren’s rich and various collection of new poems—I Love It Though—should alert readers to one of its prevailing moods, that of a skeptic’s affirmation. Being that of a skeptic, the affirmation comes with reservations. Alli Warren knows there are limits to the possibilities of any given day. She writes from the experiences of attuned observations, surveying the landscape with a hesitant but not unwilling participant’s attention to interplays of detail. She tracks ridge and crevice, inclination and fold; they belong to the topography of social landscapes and the bodies in them and also to the structures of her articulated thoughts. Days take place, abounding with forms. And thus it is that, with respect to affirmation, these poems begin with reservations. But they do not end there. If skeptical affirmation is one of this book’s moods, love is another. It is shaped out of the quicknesses of Warren’s attention, guiding her embrace of the specific given good and her grief over all that’s malevolent. This is a powerful and beautiful book, and the poems that comprise it should be read over and over again. — Lyn Hejinian