The Bones of This Land is available for purchase!
You can get it on Amazon.
or Barnes & Noble!
The first full length publication by author Kat Heatherington. This collection won the Swimming with Elephants Publications Chapbook Competition of 2017.
“The Bones of this Land is an exquisite collection of poetry and craft at its apex. Heatherington is an expert at subtle but powerful verse. Her words read like a whisper but resonate like a bomb. Here is a book that will leave you satiated, but curiously enough, hungry for more. ” Jessica Helen Lopez, author of Always Messing With Them Boys, cunt. bomb., Language of Bleeding and a recipient of the Zia Book Award
i am so proud of this tiny powerful book.
if you buy it, please consider leaving a review on amazon or goodreads! reviews do a world of good in helping books sell. thank you! i hope you like it!
I should have the final proof of my book sometime this week, and I’m extremely excited. Meanwhile, I have two events planned so far for the release of The Bones of This Land.
Book Release Reading & Celebration
Saturday, October 21st
901 Edith SE
Kat Heatherington will speak about and read work from her newly published volume of poems, The Bones of This Land, published this fall by Swimming with Elephants Press. Hosted by Katrina Guarascio.
Potluck snacks! Music by Kalina! Copies of the book will be available for sale. Come celebrate with me!
I will also do a reading & book signing on Tuesday, November 7th, at the UNM Bookstore, 12-1pm, hosted by Katrina Guarascio. We will have copies available for sale at this event as well, and copies will be available in the bookstore following the reading.
I hope to see you there!
Gorgeous cover art by Gwendolyn Prior of Five Lines Studios
Swimming with Elephants Publications had a chapbook competition this summer. I spent the last weeks of May working my tail off to send in a manuscript. Winners were announced last weekend at the Power to the People Poetry Slam, which included a performance by the Abq Slam Team. I’ve been increasingly nervous as my book made it into the finalists lists, one after another, over the course of July.
I also hadn’t attended a slam in many years. The Abq Slam Team, who are heading to Nationals this month, were truly amazing, performing several powerful, dynamic, affective group pieces, finely crafted, on potent topics. I am so glad the SwEP contest got us out to experience this work! As a friend put it, we were in church.
and my book, The Bones of This Land, won first place! it will be published this fall by Swimming With Elephants Press. It will be a smallish volume, around 40 pages. I will keep you all posted on the details as they emerge! I am so excited!
here’s a video of the contest winner annoucement.
The Bones of This Land
Posted in poems
Tagged book contract
i remember your first purr.
small creature in from the wild,
slowly learning to trust me.
you had not purred in years,
and you were rusty, motor sputtering,
body half-tensed for flight.
but you let me stroke your chin, slowly,
and you leaned your head into my hand,
where it fit perfectly,
and blinked, slowly, your forgotten purr
rumbling to life.
now you sleep beside my pillow,
and every night, you are purring
before you even leap
onto your spot on my bed.
I stroke your soft chin
and blink back at you
until we both fall asleep.
if the winter night sky
and each other
are all we’ve got
then we will have to find a way
for that to be enough.
in late winter or early spring
between the cranes
and the green
the brown world
warms and wakens.
in a single morning,
wheeling and crying,
a hundred thousand sandhill cranes
take to the sky,
create their own north wind,
and leave behind
a warming breeze,
and skies wrung silent.
until the songbirds come.
the eternal sun gleams on bright
brown cottonwood skeletons
pulling up sap from deep roots,
beginning to think about spring.
i am an echo
i am changed and changing.
a seed, a star, soil,
the space between stars.
i am dna, history,
a particular education,
a set of leanings, a fire.
i am often in motion.
every day echoes everything
i have ever been.
deep in cold soil i turn,
awaiting, with patience
the warming spring,
i am not ready yet.
i stand in a twilit field
watching the water ease in,
watching flickering bats hunt mosquitoes,
watching you prepare to leave again.
the water seeps over dry soil,
finds every fissure, pours in.
the bat careens in circles,
appearing and disappearing against a darkening sky,
feasting and frantic.
you load the last boxes into your truck,
shut the tailgate, and meet my eyes.
it will be half a year
before you return.
the last light slips from the sky.
at least, this time, it is summer.
the heat of this night must hold me
until you return.