Antigone for our times in her third collection, If Some God Shakes Your House, where filial devotion and ossified roles of gendered labor become the engine of her defiance. Franklin's Antigone is ferocious, feeling, and unafraid of the consequences of speaking the truth to power about the political atrocities she has witnessed and personal traumas she has withstood. With a sensitivity that equally elevates the quotidian and the classical, and an attention that moves from the ancient ruins of Pompeii to the right of bodily autonomy and agency stripped away by our own Supreme Court, Franklin reveals the high stakes of our moment where "the one who does the judging judges things all wrong." Franklin's Antigone has embraced the sacrifice of self for something greater--a dual devotion to her disabled daughter and to her art. "For twenty years, I have been disappearing," she writes in the book's final poem, yet she continues to sing.