Adam Wolfond’s poem is mostly written in declaratives, giving it a sense of confidence. As a nonspeaking autistic artist, prose writer and poet, Wolfond uses language as an invitation to witness and engage where evanescence arises from multiplicity, not uniformity and convention. (Note: The blue line does not correspond with the original text but has been recreated in collaboration with the editors of the magazine.) I Am the Pace of My Body and Not LanguageI think the days of the weekare paced in the line of rocksand the water of the oceanWater talks by pacing waves against themRocks respond by allowing their surfaces to be wornTime is perceived by the appreciationof language but I amthe pace of my bodyand not languageI think there are many times to think aboutI want people to understand how hard it isto always typeMy rhythm is long and continuousnot as noises in my headThe noises are forging wantof the howling windThe noises are in the wantto talkBut I feel the way I always toward the calm body goTime is perceived by the appreciationof language but I amthe pace of my bodyand not languageand line the rally that I can feel.

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