49 million years ago, the ancestors of modern whales left their terrestrial habitat to embrace the unknown perils of an ocean-based existence. In this new poetry collection, Jenna Le reflects with wit and lyricism on the ways that whales and other fauna, fish, and fowl are defined by their predecessors' immigrant narratives, slyly prodding readers to think about what these animal kingdom anecdotes might have to teach us about the complexities of life for human immigrant families and their descendants. In doing so, she speaks in multiple voices, expressing myriad perspectives, including but not limited to her personal perspective as a second-generation Asian-American descended from Vietnam War refugee parents. She also brings her unusual life experiences as a physician to bear on her storytelling, resulting in a book of verse steeped in the aromas not only of sea salt and ambergris, but also of blood and sweat and antiseptic, love and life and death.