Winner of the Brittingham Prize in Poetry
— selected by Eduardo C. Corral
Best Poetry of '23-'24
— Ms. Magazine
“Highlights experiences of shared vulnerability and honesty and lessons. . . . Stories are created through experiences and emotional phases.”
— Navajo Times
“Atsitty consistently delivers surprises in sound and syntax, and across sensory, and sometimes sensual, imagery. . . . Atsitty is an early career poet to follow.”
— Literary Hub
“Atsitty’s favored form throughout (At) Wrist is the sonnet, whose centuries-old traditions she extends and refashions. Her experiments with the form—the ribbon-thin “Lace Sonnet,” a 13-line “Candy Dish Sonnet”—both praise and pattern themselves after decorative arts, revealing the often unappreciated labor they require. In lacemaking and poetry alike, Atsitty discovers fittingly intricate figures for the countless ways our lives overlap and intertwine.”
— Harriet, Poetry Foundation
“A delirium of image and language. These poems are inviting and elegant and transformative, which then makes the whole reading experience pure poetic pleasure. You will find yourself returning to these poems again and again to relish and savor her love for humanity. This book is a blessing.”
— Virgil Suárez, author of The Painted Bunting’s Last Molt and Amerikan Chernobyl
“(At) Wrist lifts and sways with loss, praise, gratitude, intimacy, love, and grief—all that makes us human—both earthly and divine—as a piercing echo song of the natural world. Atsitty sings, ‘The wind / can only lift so much with its song: / snow is a blessing; its color / amplifies silence, so you can hear / every crunch or offering of self.’ I gather strength as the collarbones, wrists, veins, ankles, and soles of feet of this human body hold me together as delicately and powerfully as the creeks, canyons, glacier stones, and tree bones. Here, I’m humbled by a great sense of oneness and endurance, now as in the past, when ‘we rushed like rain to meet / along the ridges of the Chuskas.’ Thank you, Tacey Atsitty, for this star choir of beauty.”
— Layli Long Soldier, author of Whereas
"As formally seductive as it is subversive, Tacey Atsitty’s (At) Wrist is a poetry of deep longing and praise, of loss and the courage of resilience. Anchored in an intimate vision of connectedness, her syntax works its way beyond thought’s limit, setting its hook in the terrain of memory and dream. This is a book I will return to for what no other poet I know delivers with such daring and vulnerability, a poetry wherein time, body, and the natural world are presented as a singularity otherwise known as love.”
— James Kimbrell