Grist is a collection that explores the connection between body and spirit. The poems are honest and often devastating, just as the body itself when faced with trauma. The poems are visceral and intuitive, yet plainly spoken. The chapbook moves in sections to deal with themes of connection, loss, and grief, all while asking the reader to feel these, often painful, sensations in the physical body. Kate Peterson earned her MFA from Eastern Washington University, where she is now teaching composition as an adjunct. Her poetry has appeared or is forthcoming from Sugar House Review, Packingtown Review, Aethlon, Glassworks, and The Sierra Nevada Review, among others. Kate is originally from New Jersey but has made Spokane her home. This is her first published collection. She can be reached at www.katelaurenpeterson.tumblr.com. “Though at moments this collection feels fragile, like it is teetering on the edge of collapse, Grist is as much a book about healing as it is about being wounded. Many of the poems take place in hospital beds, where you can almost feel the bones of the speaker’s body knitting themselves, slowly, back together. The final words of the collection ring out, beyond the scrape of a scalpel against bone or a dead sparrow in the fireplace, toward a cynical, but certain Sometimes things get broken, she said. Sometimes a car wrecks on the side of the road and your father sees it and says to you, My god, be careful out here. And you try. You try for as long as you can.”
I read every poem multiple times, and I wasn't bored by any of them. Each poem is layered so carefully and tenderly and it's one of those things that I look at and my attention is captured, I can't look away.
Peterson's poetry is easy to read, so if you're not a poem-reading person, don't worry; the language is accessible and deeply resonant. But don't think that that accessibility means "shallow"; it's anything but.
I had to work through this collection slowly and carefully and I'm so glad I did; every time I encountered a new piece, something within it felt relevant and stirring.