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"With "one foot in the office the other lolling/ about the field," Warren (Here Come the Warm Jets) probes at what "lies between/ want and need." Amid the comforting concreteness of fact and the energetic forces of dream and instinct, Warren sings "of something that cannot speak/ its name though its signature is everywhere." Her poems are lean and energetic-most do not exceed a page-but they can be slippery and bewildering in their tight-packed complexity...Warren directs her aptitude for rhyme and aural texture to conveying the shape and expression of human desire ("we have nothing/ between gasps/ of great need"), as well as the political structures that have evolved through these hungers: given the tendency of borders to "burst open under their/ propensity for feasting," Warren encourages readers to "embrace your finitude/ as the end of accumulation."-Publishers Weekly
