My second chapbook was just released by Mouthfeel Press and is available for order, a real steal at just $6! You can order directly from the publisher here.
So, what's this crazy book about, anyway?
Now that's a good question! No one answers this better than my blurbers:
"Whoever dreamed that peeling an orange or selecting a grapefruit could be such a sensuous experience? In these juicy poems of the Rio Grande Valley, Katherine Hoerth invites the reader into a world dripping with pleasure and delight." --- Steven Schneider, author of Borderlines: Drawing Border Lives, Prairie Air Show, and Unexpected Guests
"The Garden of Dresses is the sexual awakening not only of the speaker(s), but of objects, characters, places. Katherine’s poems relentlessly make the readers come up close to the images, and, more than read the poems, they savor them."--Laura Cesarco Eglin, author of Sastreria and Llamar al aqua por su nombre.
"These poems speak to a complicated femininity, ancient and modern, dangerous and vulnerable, passionate as a lioness or a butterfly...here are moments in the journey of the poet's ripening--from ripening body and sexuality to ripening compassion and awareness..."-- ire'ne lara silva, author of furia.
And while I'm at it, wouldn't you love a little sample? Ok, here's the collection's namesake poem, "The Garden of Dresses"
Garden of Dresses
I step across the threshold of Eden
into this eve’s paradise, the light
illuminates the blushing temptations,
hanging from branches above. Long ago
I denied myself the taste
of pomegranate on my lips
and let my flesh give way
to rib bone, so I could stand
naked, in front of my own gaze.
I reach up, pluck a piece
of little black paradise
from the vine. It bursts
into bloom as the zipper opens
and invites me inside.
I pull the silky skin across
my body, up my sanded toothpick
legs, empty hipbones, hourglass
waist. And that forbidden fruit
caresses my flesh covered bones.
My nipples perk as silk
glides over, and I slip my shoulders
inside. I stare at how we look
together – my Louis Vuiton
wrapped tight around
me, and I can’t help but long
for closure. I grasp
at the zipper, just out of reach.
I still need you
to zip me up.
Poem first published in Ellipsis Literature and Art, Spring 2012