From its opening insistence on "not love but procedure," Hanae Jonas's Softly Undercover explores the possibilities and limitations of ritual and repetition, asking what it means to believe and see clearly. Formally rangy poems map out territories of devotion and divination, contrasting the realm of mystery, dreams, and symbols with the alienation of the mundane. Against a backdrop of intimate relationships, small towns, rural landscapes, and claustrophobic interiors, Jonas casts her gaze on isolation, nostalgia, repression, visibility, and loss while examining the desire "to go anywhere more docile / than facts." Animated by uncertainty, this elliptical and lyrical debut dwells in the pleasures and hazards of illusion.