"'Ask me / for a book of doors that open all at once.' Underscore manifests, stunningly, a movement back and forth—flowing, shuttling, plunging, leaping, folding—between forms of attention and feeling, both delicate and strong, both intricate and vast. One encounters moving focal points in flashes of particularity, and large, elliptical orbits of unified emotional, thematic, political, and conceptual concern. 'Out there there are / fragments of voice not yet settled / to ash.' Here are lines of astonishing lucidity, and yet a deep mystery lingers within unravelings and crystallizations miraculously deft and gorgeously slipping.  And here also is great intimacy, not only on the stage of loss, within its framework and lived experience, but also toward precise people and places, lovingly, in affection, attachment, invocation, and elegy. At times one might feel Dickinson, at times, Woolf, glass panes, shadows, the hanging cloths of Eva Hesse—an arcing topology and groundswell of care, for children, mothers, phantoms, friends—'... to scan the names for names I know / no more mere than they are massive / like the weight of dust-crowned / loam.' Arid and vegetal, contained and expansive, optical and opaque, it just sings. There is an incredible, beautiful strangeness in this fluid architecture, impossible to pin down, always ebbing and never at rest: 'Like / silence spawning music.'"

Kevin Holden, author of "Pink Noise"

"Like a murmuration of starlings whose contortions hover and careen before escape, Carr’s Underscore is an ambient and pointillistic deep saturation of the economies of twilight. In these tapering hours when we release the screwdriver from our grip, these words emerge as beads of sweat broken from a fever. I trust the perversity of these poems because it is a perversity so elemental that listens to what it should not be listening to: under floorboards, the punished, the yeast. In a necessary poetics of the ill-equipped, this book speaks to the violence and ultimate limits of use and to somatic transmissions only possible in disintegration and power out. As a silhouettist of language, Carr’s words gather in the thousand dots from disparate frequencies, concentrating them so momentarily yet so sharply until the moving edges cut shadows into the land, out of something like the human."
 

Valerie Hsiung, author of "The Naif"

"The underscore—a line drawn beneath, an emphasis on top of which we move, tremble, sweat, and want. A plank we walk, both towards and away from one another, always simultaneously. Between the inbreath and the outbreath, curling in and furling out: we dance in wide absences drenched in light that is the shifting shape of our teachers. Carr’s stunning Underscore reminds us that desire is a form of participation."
 

Selah Saterstrom, author of "Ideal Suggestions"

"If the race has already begun to see which poetries might outwit AI in the coming years, perhaps a poetics of hyper-personal address might endure the longest, might be just the tech needed to code into the real. Carr’s Underscore is clusters of code-cracking poems aimed at demonstrating how the implicit people of our lives become the explicit, the actual stakes. In this, Carr’s eighth book of poetry, social-psychic dissolution is momentarily snatched from the jaws of The Shredder we call American Society. And with social crises nipping at the edges of these intricate, lush poems, Carr adeptly ignores, or dodges, or straight up smacks the dizzy head of Imperium—to our delight."
 

Rodrigo Toscano, author of "The Charm and the Dread"