"In this time of plague and an injured planet, we need poems that play for the highest stakes. Whether he's writing about love, war, art, or the myths we sell ourselves, Doug Anderson takes on the whole catastrophe, and does so with passion and compassion, tenderness and rage. Simultaneously death-conscious and wide-open-hearted, Undress, She Said is a book that could only have been written by a man who's been alive for a long time. Plainspoken, precise, frequently surprising, and unabashedly intimate, these poems are that rare thing: necessary to our understanding of ourselves and our world."
-Chase Twichell

"It's the tenderness of Doug Anderson's magnificent, wildly imaginative and humane poems that's so startling, so inured have some of us become to the insults of the Late Incorporated Anthropocene. The great gift of his poems is to shock my heart out of an expectation of despair. Anderson writes without a trace of self-pity about becoming old, and of needing to explore the texture of death. This book doesn't present becoming peaceful in old age as a virtue. Instead, it continues to believe in 'us' enough to express fury about the ways we're inhuman toward others and ourselves. It thinks we can do better. Full of wit and music, the language here crackles, coruscates with light and intensity, suffused with gratitude for the beauties of the phenomenal world and for love even in its distressing disguise as death. Undress, She Said, echoes with voices….A person a thousand years ago would have felt the truth of these poems, or a thousand years from now, so rooted they are in the story, the work, of being human. On the field of battle between judgement and forgiveness, this book renders the deep service of recalling ourselves to ourselves."
-Patrick Donnelly

“Anderson’s luminous poems light the caves of our inner lives, touch the silk of the waning body, the skeins of loss, and death, who leaves her smoky perfume in every room, tattoos on her arms as she drives, crows in the backseat.  He re-visits the war, that place where ‘The sun / turns the fog to spun glass.’ A place he returns to years later where he can ‘peel a green orange and find gold.’ He pays homage to the great masters of poetry, to love, and to the fallen myths that trail us into the end of our days, undressing us all.”
-Dorianne Laux