Like a collection of magic spells, Francesca Preston's evocative debut chapbook If There Are Horns imparts to us an ancient and imaginative Earth-wisdom. These haunting poems hum with Preston's sense of animism, love of nature and regard for the stories of her Ligurian ancestors. Through Preston's words we witness how we consume, and are consumed by, the nature that surrounds us; yet, this mutual consumption occurs in uncanny ways-a beloved's skull, eaten by time, becomes a honeycomb, bits of viscera and blood are stitched into sausages, the moon becomes a piece of candy and then a sweet lychee. It is an utter joy and a delight to wander in the dream garden Preston has grown for us, to partake of its rich and darkly revealing fruit.
-Dara Yen Elerath
Francesca Preston's stunning debut collection transfuses softly, beautifully, potently. Her words paint and sound two Prestons: one dry like a skeleton, the other dense and juicy like the insides of pomegranates. I am left hearing "the sound of fingertips / hitting a jug / that once carried water."
-Naoko Fujimoto
In If There Are Horns, by Francesca Preston, bodies and landscapes are deeply intertwined, glinting against each other and finding new nuance. Many of these poems explore a California far from the beaches and sand of stereotype and delve into a quieter, complicated space of drought and folktale. There is a deep connection to the natural world here: dust, viscera, and maps. This is a beautiful collection.
-Elizabeth McMunn-Tetangco
