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I Undertand Jonah I



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As some of you may know, I am, perhaps foolishly, trying to write a book. That means I’ve been working more at home, and spending a lot of time on my couch. I have a desk, but it’s always covered with junk. So, I sit on my couch and put my laptop on a metal folding chair in front of me, trying to stay put and write. It’s a constant struggle just to stay sitting right there, because if I don’t, I know I will fall further behind on this project. So, I sit there, and I can just feel myself sinking into, merging with, my couch. Now I think I understand a little better Jonah’s mystical connection with his couch. I am becoming one with mine, my body going soft, the couch sagging further and further (I’m not a heavy guy, but I’m steadily breaking the thing down). I try not to think about this process too much, and how I may be becoming a weird creature, half-man/half-couch. Malcolm Cowley wrote of how when he met writers he Paris he was surprised by how they were used-up husks of people—maybe because they had long ago become part-furniture!



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