“May Tomorrow Be Awake is stark and touchable portrait of tenderness that doesn’t treat living and loving as a challenge, even when it might be challenging. From sinking into this book, I learned how to be a better and more thoughtful steward of the world and the people closest to me. There is no greater gift than this one, to depart from a text with a cleaner, more generous view of living.” — Hanif Adurraqib, poet and author of A Little Devil in America and A Fortune for Your Disaster "By forming meaningful connections with non-speaking autistic poets and coming to understand the distinctive ways they employ the architecture of language to express themselves, Chris Martin has returned poetry to its primordial function -- as a domain of soul-making that can transform society." — Steve Silberman, author, NeuroTribes: The Legacy of Autism and the Future of Neurodiversity "A wondrous exploration of autistic creativity, and the mutual learning that becomes possible when we let go of ’normal’ and aim for authentic connection.” — Nick Walker, PhD, author of Neuroqueer Heresies "Every poem is deep with philosophical intuition from productive minds. I am so glad the poets have found an outlet in this book to be heard." — Tito Mukhopadhyay, poet and author of Teaching Myself to See and How Can I Talk If My Lips Don’t Move “A sensitive celebration of neuroscientific difference. Martin’s message is not only about unleashing the potential of autistic individuals, but creating a world where ‘different modes of movement, of communication, of being and signing and pointing and singing and ticcing and typing’ affords all people a new vision ‘of what it means to be human.’” — Kirkus “Martin braids contemporary neurological research and literary theory in this eloquent reflection on his experience teaching poetry to neurodiverse students. . . . [His] narration is empathetic and charming, and his students’ writings combine to offer moving, intelligent, insightful pathways for understanding different minds. The result brilliantly proves that nonverbal doesn’t mean voiceless.” — Publishers Weekly