DAVID DUCHOVNY'S SEVENTH PUBLISHED--AND FIRST POETIC--WORK covers a range of intimate themes and topics, including love, the loss of love, parenting, Duchovny's own parents (in particular his father, who looms large throughout the work), alienation, and other emotional quandaries. Fans of Duchovny's fiction will recognize the insightful and clever play of words that, in this new form, distill to an emotionally impactful portrayal of what the author holds most dear.

Duchovny's approach to poetry is beautifully (and, typically, humorously) encapsulated in his introduction to the work, in which he writes:

Poetry is not useful. And that is exactly why we need it. It reminds us of two important things: our ultimate lack of agency (unpopular to say, I know) and our inability to say anything plain, our inability to capture what it means to be human with the imperfect tool of words; we come face-to-face with our shadow selves, for in the end we will all die and be forgotten, and come away with nothing, nothing in the way of utility anyway, no talking points, no bullet points, no propaganda, no resolutions, no policy, no knowledge. If anything, maybe we remember a few lines . . . something like a pop song from the collective unconscious, something like wisdom.

You see, I wanted to say it plain, but out comes that torrent of modifiers and adjustments, denials, double negatives, shading, stabs at wit, backpedaling, playing at capturing the lightning. Maybe this time. Maybe that's what a poem is--that glorious feeling of Maybe this time I'll get it right. If that's the case, it seems a worthy enterprise to me. You see, I got somewhere, but the way back is unclear--that's a good enough definition of poetry for now. No, it's not.

Duchovny's efforts at achieving such clarity range in this collection from laser-sharp, single-sentence poems to emotionally sweeping ruminations. With About Time--perhaps his most personal work to date--Duchovny continues his journey as one of the most prolific creators of his generation.