THINGS YOU MAY FIND HIDDEN IN MY EAR: Poems From Gaza, by Mosab Abu Toha. (City Lights, paper, $11.17.) Written from his native Gaza, Abu Toha’s accomplished debut contrasts scenes of political violence with natural beauty: In one poem, a “nightingale departs the wet earth” two stanzas before the “sound of a drone / intrudes.”
THRESH & HOLD, by Marlanda Dekine. (Hub City, paper, $16.) A member of South Carolina’s Gullah Geechee community whose enslaved ancestors harvested rice, Dekine honors their legacy in this stirring debut: “I tell all my dead to let loose.”
PALM-LINED WITH POTIENCE, by Basie Allen. (Ugly Duckling, paper, $14.40.) Allen is a painter as well as a poet, and he brings an artist’s eye and rebel’s soul to these loose-limbed poems set largely in New York City, where “police precincts need to blossom / into epicenters of art movements.”
CAIN NAMED THE ANIMAL, by Shane McCrae. (Farrar, Straus & Giroux, $25.) McCrae’s eighth collection extends his interest in a history rooted in Christian myth and toxic power dynamics. In the poem that gives the book its title, Adam’s God-given dominion over the animals means that “killing was / Like prayer for him.”
WOMAN, EAT ME WHOLE: Poems, by Ama Asantewa Diaka. (Ecco, $25.99.) “Act 1, Scene 1 / Enter woman.” So begins this bold debut’s first poem, a tribute to the Ghanaian freedom fighter Ama Nkrumah that introduces many of the book’s rousing themes: womanhood, activism and Ghanaian history among them.
ZOOM ROOMS: Poems, by Mary Jo Salter. (Knopf, $28.) Salter’s ninth book of poems looks squarely at the present, from the mordant opener (“Your Session Has Timed Out”) to the central sequence of sonnets devoted to Zoom meetings.
FIGHTING IS LIKE A WIFE, by Eloisa Amezcua. (Coffee House, paper, $16.95.) Through formally varied poems about the real-life featherweight boxer Bobby Chacon and his wife, Amezcua’s second collection probes notions of violence, sport, marriage and gender roles.
A COUNTRY OF STRANGERS: New and Selected Poems, by D. Nurkse. (Knopf, $35.) This substantial volume gathers work from Nurske’s 35-year career to make the case that he is, quietly, one of our most engaged civic poets, even as he honors interior lives and emotional complexity.