PRAISE
Togethering feels like the transubstantiation of love into language. It astonishes me. It tickles me. It inspires me. It plants a field of sunflowers in my heart then gently beckons that whole glad and gleaming field to join it.
— ROSS GAY, author of The Book of (More) Delights
Lucky for us, in the darkness of our time, Rose Zinnia’s marvelous Togethering shines a light via spirit and double-blossom and divine hole-y-ness on how not to be desolate, how not to be un-skied, despite the dire heaviness, despite that we die. This unpinnable work—does not give up—urgently does not give up—on the idea that being together and holding together in revolutionary conflagration (the self, the collective, the choir that sings)—is in fact an activity alive, one that requires generosity, collaboration, vigilance, and grace. This book is art for the futurity of possibility and being in the flash and whirr without shame, “held together by fragments of delight.” Anarchic belonging! Rapturous flight! The invitation is a call to assemble in love!
— MATT HART, author of Familiar
Togethering is a voice-rich, matter-of-fact love letter to the self and all selves (un)contained within. The text shapeshifts, queers, and portals into open-hearted, multiplicitous worlds. Rose Zinnia’s invented vernacular not only maintains the river of communication with readers, but pulls them closer—a boundaryless, intuitive, exacting acrobatics of language that lifts the fog from around her life-breathing philosophies. I’m grateful for the comfort folded into the many beautiful truths she gifts us, in particular: when the world feels too rigid, linear, commodified, and inaccessible, too cruel to possibly support life, joy is imperishably present in all the old hurts, every “exchange of sounds'' with friends or strangers, each alchemizing shift of body and water. I would like to follow this poet to her kinder futurepresent.
— MOLLY CROSS-BLANCHARD, author of Exhibitionist
In Rose Zinnia’s title work within her poetry collection, Togethering, she says, “Queerness is a long thread of hurt.” Ursula K. Le Guin, who she has conjured in a dream, responds, “Now what will you mend with that thread?” This book, with its tender language, quirky phrasings, and imagery that wound up me like a vine, feels like Zinnia’s response.
— EMILY GLOWE, REFERENTIAL’S QUEER BOOK CLUB
Zinnia writes with disarming rawness and vulnerability, as though even their pen is somehow made of soft tissue.