Bill Holm

Earbud—a tiny marble sheathed in foam to wear like an interior earring so you can enjoy private noises wherever you go, protected from any sudden silence. Only check your batteries, then copy a thousand secret songs and stories on the tiny pod you carry in your pocket. You are safe now from other noises made by other people, other machines, by chance, noises you have not chosen as your own. To get your attention, I touch your arm to show you the tornado or the polar bear. Sometimes I catch you humming or talking to the air as if to a shrunken lover waiting in your ear.

Start with the square heavy loaf steamed a whole day in a hot spring until the coarse rye, sugar, yeast grow dense as a black hole of bread. Let it age and dry a little, then soak the old loaf for a day in warm water flavored with raisins and lemon slices. Boil it until it is thick as molasses. Pour it in a flat white bowl. Ladle a good dollop of whipped cream to melt in its brown belly. This soup is alive as any animal, and the yeast and cream and rye will sing inside you after eating for a long time.