Sara Peters’<\/a> debut poetry collection. \u00a0Peters’ collection is about obsessions, in all their varying forms, ranging from sex, cruelty, childhood, and religion. \u00a0But the magic here is in her ability to surprise the reader’s expectations about these subjects–Peters does not shy away from darkness, instead examining, turning it over in her capable hands. \u00a0 The result is haunting.<\/p>\nThis is Peters’ debut, and I look forward to reading more of her work for years to come.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Rehearsal<\/strong><\/p>\nI am walking through water with one of my sisters,<\/p>\n
\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 the river banked with tiger lilies, the sun<\/div>\n
like having a lemon juiced into your eye, our senile dog<\/div>\n
ecstatic behind us,<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0and I am yammering<\/div>\n
about my discovery\u2009\u2014<\/div>\n
a chest deep pool, sentried by trees<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0that caterpillars were killing<\/div>\n
with their yearly carnival tents.<\/div>\n
We reach then ruin the pool with oils and shampoos.<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0We scrub too much skin<\/div>\n
from our heels, then debate<\/div>\n
whether to sunbathe naked:<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0that is, who is hiding in the woods.<\/div>\n
We joke so long and rough<\/div>\n
the joke morphs, till we\u2019re practicing for<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0our future rapes:<\/div>\n
we both have numbers that we know are up.<\/div>\n
My sister\u2019s ears are speared<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0with porcupine quills and steel,<\/div>\n
but she\u2019s placed her straw hat carefully over her stomach.<\/div>\n
As she talks I watch<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0while dragonflies and other<\/div>\n
less showy insects land<\/div>\n
on her burning shoulders.<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The dragonflies present their stenciled wings.<\/div>\n
I can\u2019t remember what the others do.<\/div>\n
My sister spits<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0to clean each sunglass mirror.<\/div>\n
She wants me to hear<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
how, when it happens,<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0she\u2019ll do this scream\u2009\u2014<\/div>\n
but when the scream comes it\u2019s just like she\u2019s opened<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
a shaken bottle of sparkling water:<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0I am speechless only for the view<\/div>\n
of \u200a\u200aher throat\u2019s cushioned corridor.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
But when the scream ends her eyes<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0have broken off from the rest of\u200a\u200a her face.<\/div>\n
She takes our green net bag full of oranges,<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
and slams it down on the baking rocks,<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0beating the ground till the oranges soften<\/div>\n
and streak the air with the smell of\u200a\u200a their breaking.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
~ Sara Peters<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
By Andrea MacPherson My Poetry Month Choice: “Rehearsal” by Sara Peters There’s not much better than discovering a new writer you love. I immediately fell in love when I read 1996, Sara Peters’ debut poetry collection. \u00a0Peters’ collection is about obsessions, in all their varying forms, ranging from sex, cruelty, childhood, and religion. \u00a0But […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":107,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-94","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ufv.ca\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/94","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ufv.ca\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ufv.ca\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ufv.ca\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/107"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ufv.ca\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=94"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ufv.ca\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/94\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":107,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ufv.ca\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/94\/revisions\/107"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ufv.ca\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=94"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ufv.ca\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=94"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ufv.ca\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=94"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
![\"English](\"http:\/\/blogs.ufv.ca\/english\/files\/2015\/04\/English-blog-Andrea-Mac.jpg\")
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