i am building a portable mausoleum to mourn every one of your exhalations. i will carry it on my back & follow you to every place. when you stop at every place i will use the telescope that i have built to look inside of you. the telescope is able to look into the insides of your ovaries, to the place where your breath comes from. but before i use the telescope, i will collect your exhalations at every place. at every place children will ask me what is in the mausoleum strapped to my back. i will let the children climb inside of the mausoleum. when they get out they will say that it is dark & empty inside, but that it smells like the place they were born from. the children will ask me what that even means at every place. i am building an abstract language out of your exhalations. the language is called something but i haven’t figured this part out yet. the language does look like children though & it is spoken at every place. you have been to all of them & behind you is a man with a mausoleum strapped to his back at every place.
M.G. Martin is the author of One For None (Ink., 2010.) His work has appeared or is forthcoming in PANK, Mud Luscious, >kill author & ZYZZYVA, among others. M.G. lives is Brooklyn with a lady poet & a lady dog. Find him at mgmartin.tumblr.com & @themgmartin.
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