I command my car only in German.
I talk with my wife only in English.
I scold our children only in Mandarin.

When I hold our first grader
In my arms, as he falls asleep,
I picture him clutching the dead

Version of me I'll never see.
My daughter—she'll clutch him
Clutching me. My wife I can't

Picture. But she must be there
In the background, breathing
Hard against a tree. When I go,

I'll remember us on vacation, riding
Here in the car, everyone looking
Out the windows, talking at once—

Except me. That's when I close
My eyes, lift my hands just off
The wheel, and try to imagine

A language without the world.
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Cover art for Good Day for Cloud Fishing

"The plan was Ben would compose a dozen pieces inspired by specific Young poems. Then Goldberg, trumpeter Ron Miles and guitarist Nels Cline would record those compositions. While they recorded a piece, Dean Young in the studio would write a new poem in response."

viaNPR
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Cover for Zong!

“As the excerpt from 'Ferrum' begins, the desire to read is baffled. What is all our f? What is ht fad? The pages offer no visual clues, no eye-rhythms for mind to follow, but the eye goes to work, gradually witnessing an emergence of image and narrative from chaos. We can rewrite the text, if we need to; it’s there to be found: and their fall our fall it was a bull market for guineas and for guinea negroes a bet in hope night fades to day day to night her dugs hang sacks of dry fear. What would we lose by this?"
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