Your Language
This autobiography is told through a mouth. Gathering the leftover words from my head at the end of the day, I write them down. The mattress decompresses.
My Language
I expect bear attacks in the woods. Trespassers must. I have put snow into my hands and I shove snow into its mouth, which is open.
Your Language
If my autobiography is the length of both of my forearms on top of one another, then this means it is done. I do not wait for someone to say finish.
My Language
A wall in my house shows that I’ve been growing just a little bit, every year.
Your Language
I show my autobiography to him right before we fuck. It’s justification.
My Language
I am calm when I speak. I am calm when bears attack me. You should just let things happen as they happen.
Your Language
A book is what you call a collection of words that have been assembled properly. Until then, it is not a book. I digress.
My Language
Sometimes I ask my mother questions about what I was like as a child. She always tells me: smaller.
Your Language
This mattress is a place for sleeping, and yes we do sleep some nights. Some nights that is all that we do.
Jordaan Mason is the author of (after) bed (oh! map, 2006) and the forthcoming novel The Skin Team (Magic Helicopter, 2012). Things have appeared or are forthcoming in UNSAID, the
Scrambler, NOÖ Journal, and red lightbulbs.
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