Michael Teig’s long-awaited second collection is the perfect poetry companion: witty, intriguing, and self-effacing as it picks up overheard conversations and the accidental encounters of everyday life. As Stephen Dobyns wrote, Teig's poems "have this ability to make the world fresh again and make us realize once again why we love the world, despite its failings and our own."

An extension of and a departure from previous explorations of family and art, these poems delve boldly into tangled realities of fatherhood, marriage, and poetry. Dealing with the day-to-day of family life—including the alert anxiety and remarkable beauty of caring for a child with cerebral palsy—these personal narratives illuminate the relationship that exists between poetry and a life fiercely lived.

Taking its name from the moon's dark plains, misidentified as seas by early astronomers, The Black Maria investigates African diasporic histories, the consequences of racism within American culture, and the question of human identity. Central to this project is a desire to recognize the lives of Eritrean refugees who have been made invisible by years of immigration crisis, refugee status, exile, and resulting statelessness. The recipient of a 2015 Whiting Award for Poetry, Girmay's newest collection elegizes and celebrates life, while wrestling with the humanistic notion of seeing beyond: seeing violence, seeing grace, and seeing each other better. "to the sea" great storage house, history on which we rode, we touched the brief pulse of your fluttering pages, spelled with salt & life, your rage, your indifference your gentleness washing our feet, all of you going on whether or not we live, to you we bring our carnations yellow & pink, how they float like bright sentences atop your memory's dark hair Aracelis Girmay is the author of two poetry collections, Teeth and Kingdom Animalia, which won the Isabella Gardner Award and was a finalist for the NBCC Award. The recipient of a 2015 Whiting Award, she has received grants and fellowships from the Jerome, Cave Canem, and Watson foundations, as well as Civitella Ranieri and the NEA. She currently teaches at Hampshire College's School for Interdisciplinary Arts and in Drew University's low residency MFA program. Originally from Santa Ana, California, she splits her time between New York and Amherst, Massachusetts.

"The poems in Copia are about what is and what is almost-gone, what is in limbo and what won't give way, what is almost at rock bottom but still and always brimming with the possibility of miracle."—Rachel Zucker Erika Meitner's fourth book takes cues from the Land Artists of the 1960s who created work based on landscapes of urban peripheries and structures in various states of disintegration. The collection also includes a section of documentary poems about Detroit that were commissioned for Virginia Quarterly Review. Because it is an uninhabited place, because it makes me hollow, I pried open the pages of Detroit: the houses blanked out, factories absorbed back into ghetto palms and scrub- oak, piles of tires, heaps of cement block. Vines knock and enter through shattered drop-ceilings, glassless windows. Ragwort cracks the street's asphalt to unsolvable puzzles. Meitner also probes the hulking ruins of office buildings, tract housing, superstores, construction sites, and freeways, and doesn't shy from the interactions that occur in Walmart and supermarket parking lots. It is nearly Halloween, which means wrong sizes on Wal-Mart racks, variety bags of pumpkins extinguishing themselves on the stoop children from the trailer park trawling our identical lawns soon so we can give away nickels, light, sandpaper, raisins, cement. Erika Meitner was a 2009 National Poetry Series winner. Her work has appeared in American Poetry Review, Ploughshares, Tin House, The Best American Poetry 2011, Kenyon Review, and elsewhere. She is associate professor of English at Virginia Tech.

Winner of the 2015 James Laughlin Award, Kathryn Nuernberger's The End of Pink is populated by strange characters—Bat Boy, automatons, taxidermied mermaids, snake oil salesmen, and Benjamin Franklin—all from the annals of science and pseudoscience. Equal parts fact and folklore, these poems look to the marvelous and the weird for a way to understand childbirth, parenthood, sickness, death, and—of course—joy.

Beautiful Wall takes us on a profound journey through the deserts of the Southwest where the ever-changing natural landscape and an aggressive border culture rewrite intolerance and ethnocentric thought into human history. Inextricably linked to his Mexican ancestry and American upbringing, Ray Gonzalez's new collection mounts the wall between the current realities of violence and politics, and a beautiful, never-to-be-forgotten past. Ray Gonzalez is the author of fifteen books of poetry. The recipient of numerous awards, including a 2002 Lifetime Achievement Award from the Southwest Border Regional Library Association, he is a professor at the University of Minnesota in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

One of America's foremost prose poets, Richard Garcia's The Chair simultaneously takes place in the natural world and a speculative world rich in the fabulist tradition: historical figures roam like ghosts, time is pulled and twisted, and narrative spins effortlessly out of language. A core of autobiography grounds these poems that are rife with surprises uniting the mythic and the everyday. Richard Garcia's awards include an NEA, a Pushcart Prize, and the American Poetry Journal Book Prize. He teaches creative writing in the Antioch University Los Angeles Low-Residency MFA program and lives on James Island, South Carolina.