Kate Peper: California Poets Part 8, Three Poems

Kate Peper

January 8th, 2025

California Poets: Part VIII

Kate Peper

Three Poems

Vanishing Mothers in Victorian Photography … long exposure times (in 19^th-century photography) meant moms had to find a way to keep their little ones sitting still long enough to be seen, while also fading into the background themselves.

—The Atlantic

So determined were some mothers

not to be the subject,

they had their heads scratched out

on the negative.

Far away in Denmark

a favorite aunt would zero in

on the latest clan member, never minding

the blank spot where the mother should be.

One mother pretended to be a chair

and propped up her baby with damasked arms.

Another, dressed as a curtain

hovering just out of frame,

swung her tasseled arm

over her toddler’s shoulder. 

Different from today with so many snaps

of mother and child posted online,

copied and re-sent or blown up for the wall.

No one need know the mother’s head

was swapped out with a prettier version

from a different photo

or that she was wiped out altogether

after the divorce.

The Knife

Once, I was in love with two men.

I sat by my red phone and waited

for one or the other to call me

and say, I’m the one you need!

Outside my glass door,

the hot pink geranium blazed.

The coffee table and two chairs

sat paralyzed on the gold carpet.

A dirty knife lay in the sink,

under the dripping faucet.

I took myself to the pier

where a dinghy was tethered.

The boat bobbed and chaffed

against the wood.

I imagined them sitting

on its aluminum seats, waiting.

I closed my eyes and saw myself

cutting the rope,

watching the two men

go out to sea.

The Smell of Barbershops Makes Me Break into Hoarse Sobs

—from "Walking Around," Pablo Naruda

Maybe it’s that striped pole swirling in the weak sun,

or the way the door’s always open in summer for walk-ins,

and all that hair in drifts on the checkered tile

and when I lean against the gum tree out front, I hum

to the buzzer’s drone.

The smocked men read Sports Illustrated or Hot Rod

while Joe the barber swivels their chairs

and the plastic combs huddle in the blue Barbicide.

And at the end of the day, he brings out a push broom

to clear a swath, then another, until the floor is clear.

When the last customer rolls his newspaper

and touches Joe on his shoulder goodbye,

the door is pulled shut and a sign is flipped around: Closed.

Please don’t go, I want to say.

The unlit pole in the near-darkness looks fragile

as I imagine it when this barber shop closes for good

as in so many towns. I have this sinking feeling

we won’t remember how to be slow here anymore.

That blue and red swirl will fade,

hard to trace, then not at all.

Interview

August 28th, 2025

California Poets Interview Series:

Kate Peper, Poet, Artist

interviewed by David Garyan

DG: Art has always held a prominent place in your life. When did you start drawing and painting and how does this influence the work you do as a poet?

KP: I remember mixing a red and white Cray-pas on my paper in kindergarten and I was so excited to see pink! I instantly fell in love with color. Later, in 3^rd grade, two very important things happened: I received a large set of Caran-D’ache color pencils that when you wet, turned the color into watercolor. Then I was introduced to Beatrix Potter. I couldn’t stop replicating her animals in these watercolor pencils. My young mind was blown at this world of drawing and painting!

The two worlds don’t talk to each other much. I feel like they wave to each other in their near orbits, but rarely do they join in any of my creative output. That said, I’ve taken some of my poems and combined them with artwork I have done, the art playing a supporting role to the poem.

DG: Your time in California began in the mid-90s, when you moved to work in the educational games industry. Were you already writing poetry at that point and, in general, was it difficult adjusting to a new environment?

KP: I was writing poetry, but it really didn’t take off until the mid-90s. I joined a critique group, heard poets reading live and joined the Marin Poetry Center. All of that jettisoned my writing and enthusiasm and confidence into another sphere.

Yes, adjusting to California was quite something. For about a year, I felt that I was visiting as just another tourist. The seasons, the food, flora, the driving were all so different from Minnesota. I didn’t have time to figure anything out when I moved. I interviewed for my job as an animator for a game start-up and left the Midwest 2 weeks later. (I actually thought I’d never get sick again or feel cold). I was very naïve!

DG: You’ve taught creative writing in different contexts, including California Poets in the Schools. Did your approach change with each different setting and to what extent are you involved in the instruction of creative writing these days?

KP: I taught very young kids to high school to seniors and everyone in between! Sadly, teaching was not my calling, but I did enjoy aspects of it. I loved introducing music and natural sounds in hopes of exciting the kids’ imagination. These kinds of lessons might alter depending on the age group. I might introduce a very surreal poem or a poem written by someone their own age as something to set the tone. I tried to convey the play aspect of writing and encourage them NOT to rhyme.

I am not teaching these days, but I say “never say never”. I can see me starting a free-write group in my retirement home in the future!

DG: Apart from art, poetry, and teaching, you’ve also designed high-end carpets. How did you come to have this job and would you place the harmony of fabric closer to the medium of watercolors or to the metaphorical weaving of a poem?

KP: I got a degree in fabric and surface design a while back and though much of the designing was done on the computer, I had a lot of hand-painted designs in my portfolio when I interviewed. My future boss liked that, I guess, and I got the job. The one and only design I got to hand-paint was a thrill! There were cherry tree limbs with blossoms creeping out from under where the bed would be and the nightstand. It was more like sculpture in that I had to work from a floor plan and think in 3-D even though the artwork was flat.

I never likened it to my poetry writing per se, but the balance of creativity mixed with precision reminded me of writing a poem in form with meter. Color, texture and design all had to be balanced just right within a fixed space.

DG: Do you have a fixed writing schedule and how would you describe the environment in which you write? Is it peaceful, chaotic, organized, messy ....

KP: I do not have a fixed schedule! I’m a slow writer, in general, and one who constantly is reworking poems for sometimes years. I used to write only in the morning, but these days, I write whenever I can. The only stipulation is that it has to be quiet: no music, ambient noise (say, in a café) or anything that would distract me.

That said, I write in a circle of paper, pens and books; it’s a mess. I tend to site on the couch near a light and end table, wading through any poems that inspire me. I also collect favorite words in a little book. Its grown to quite the repository!

DG: For the majority of painters/artists location is absolutely key. Whether it’s a beautiful scene or an expansive landscape for an installation/sculpture, artists are always on the hunt for the perfect environment. Do you ever write in the spots where you’ve painted or do you always compose in the same place and sketch in different locations?

KP: I wish I could write outside, but I get too caught up with what I’m observing and touching—I have to smell, touch and see everything. On almost every walk, I bring back some sort of rock or pinecone or stick. It’s as if I can only do one thing at a time. However, I can tell my brain is percolating and energized from these walks, wherever they happen to be. I happen to live in Northern California and can open my door and begin an adventure. I am ever so grateful.

Currently, I’m doing less landscapes and more swimmers and old VWs. Both require photo taking, but not au plein air. I’ve done plein air, often sketching with watercolor on small pieces of paper and then recreating them on larger sheets when I’m back at home.

DG: Since it’s the poet who chooses the sequence and tone with which they read their pieces, would you agree that art shows give the audience a more active role in the interpretive process, mainly because they can choose the order in which they view the work?

KP: It’s true, the observer of an art show can linger longer over certain pieces and skip others altogether to focus on what excites them. And, as you said, people can start anywhere in viewing a show. But there’s something about hearing poetry live (I often sit with my eyes closed as this seems to help me concentrate). I’m awful with names and titles of anything, but as in an art show, certain things will move me and stay with me, regardless of the order I heard it. I may walk away with colors or sounds or, if I’m lucky, a full line that embeds itself in my brain. That’s a treasure!

DG: As with solo shows and group shows, poetry readings also have single readings and group readings. For both genres, do you prefer one or the other or does your preference change for each?

KP: I love both for art shows (solo and group), but when it comes to poetry, I prefer a few readers. The change-up of voices is wonderful to my ear. I also believe in the line, “Leave them wanting more” as really important for a reader. That works well within an evening of several poets.

DG: What are you reading or working on at the moment?

KP: I grab Jeanne Wagner, Connie Wanek, Caroline Bird, Seamus Heaney, Gerald Stern, Susan Browne, Stanley Plumly, among others.

I’m working on my first full-length manuscript. It’s been a long time in the making (I said I was slow!) and this poem you’ve chosen will be in it.

Author Bio:

Kate Peper's chapbook, Dipped In Black Water, won the New Women's Voices Award from Finishing Line Press. Her poems have been nominated five times for a Pushcart and have appeared in Gargoyle, Green Hills Lantern Review, Pedestal, Rattle, Tar River Review and others. Also a watercolor painter, her work has been featured in The Adroit Journal, phoebe and Nostos. She lives just north of San Francisco in the Bay Area. You can read more of her work here: www.peperpoetry.com