Tonight,
I am vast. I contain
a barren sidewalk. A city
block. A knot of sparrows.
One handful of bread.
No matter what I do
with my hands
there is still the life that wants
no part of me. No matter
what I do with the girl
there she is.
//
The girl drops an O into the slit.
A door opens & out falls the world, sweet
& tacky as the sugar flossing her tongue.
Who went & made the girl an emperor?
Who gave her that scepter?
Who told her speak & her will be done?
//
I swear, there was a story
but each time I reached out
the words grew
feathered—
let’s suppose it was a trap-
door all along.
Let’s suppose it was a glass
of water. Let’s suppose
I looked down a long hallway
& turned back.
//
You know, whoever said
that thing about words & stones
must have never been a child
who had only words
& stones & a river to walk
toward, pockets full of both.
Cameron Awkward-Rich is currently a PhD candidate in Modern Thought & Literature at Stanford University. He is a Cave Canem fellow, on staff at Muzzle Magazine, and author of the chapbook Transit (Button Poetry, 2015). Cam’s debut collection, Sympathetic Little Monsters, is forthcoming from Ricochet Editions in 2016. www.cawkwardrich.com.