By Ocean Vuong
For Tamir Rice
yellow plastic
black sea
eye-shaped shard
on a darkened map
no shores now
to arrive — or
depart
no wind but
this waiting which
moves you
as if the seconds
could be entered
& never left
toy boat — oarless
each wave
a green lamp
outlasted
toy boat
toy leaf dropped
from a toy tree
waiting
waiting
as if the sp-
arrows
thinning above you
are not
already pierced
by their own names
Source: Poetry (April 2016)
Poet Bio
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Emily Dickinson at the Poetry Slam
I will tell you why she rarely ventured from her house.
It happened like this:
One day she took the train to Boston,
made her way to the darkened room,
put her name down in cursive script
and waited her turn.
When they read her name...
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