In this book-length lyric essay, a father and poet reflects on how the birth of his daughter at a time of global existential crisis inspired him to rediscover the importance of poetry as a form of understanding and living with uncertainty

'The voice that comes through in these pages is immensely likable - humble, conscientious and emotionally intelligent' Houman Baraket, Guardian

With the birth of his first child, poet Jack Underwood is confronted anew by the panic of living in a time of unparalleled global uncertainty. Even as he holds his baby daughter, the question of how to survive it all seems more fragile and fraught than ever.

Addressing both his daughter and his readers, in Not Even This Underwood takes a nimble journey through various encounters with uncertainty, touching on questions of time, poetry, climate change, physics, economics and the serious business of Being Silly. Gradually, he and his daughter show each other what it takes to get by - how attentiveness and language are tools with which we can discover a realm of shared intimacy, hope and trust.

Part memoir, part poem, part love letter to a daughter and to all new parents, Not Even This is a delightful and delicate book about how to live now - thrilling, terrifying, fundamental.

'Underwood has the playful wisdom of Frank O'Hara, a Keatsian dedication to finding and worshipping joy, and a knack for giving frivolity, play and silliness a degree of serious attention' Dominic Leonard, TLS

'Reading Not Even This felt like waking up in a clearer, stranger and more beautiful world . . . An incantation to be fully present, fully concerned, fully alive' Luke Kennard