A Meditation on Fearless As I Seam by Abigail Zimmer
Fearless As I Seam
by Abigail Zimmer
dancing girl press, 2014
$7 Buy from dancing girl press
The blood will fill your open spaces.
I can’t get to the woods easily from where I live. I seek quiet in the city parks.
One thing people say about New Yorkers is that they are mean. I’ve found people everywhere to be whatever they are. I think here privacy comes where you make it—often in public.
I came to this book & found privacy. I found intimacy & a new language of woods.
In Pittsburgh Abi took off her shoes & ran in the rain. This was private, intimate. She was alone while we watched.
At a rest stop between Muncie & Akron Abi ran up a grassy hill & disappeared. Josh charged his phone. I took two Advil. “Your friend sure has a lot of energy,” a man said to me. I didn’t respond, gave a half grin. I live in New York, I am a woman. I have been trained in certain ways.
This book feels like nature existing in my hands. There is loss. Fragmented traveling & discovery. I hold this close. I understand.
In Chicago she made late-night toast. A crusty sourdough with goat cheese, cucumber, & olive oil. I knew I liked here right then.
A chapbook is a short breath of intensity. It fills with meaning, longing. We understand it as complete.
I say: when I look at you I believe in growth. When I look at you I feel accepted.
Fearless As I Seam opens with closing. A closing of the world. An entering in with a different set of rules. A new vocabulary. All sense of reasoning—an offering. We walk in / we are met with a greeting, a warning, a hinted loss.
Follow me as I go:
I dress in the red earth. There is no laughter.
September 15th, 2014 / 10:00 am