WEBVTT

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This poem is called "What
I Did With The Rock."

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I wrote this at oh, San
Juan Island off Seattle.

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"I was alone on the beach
when I picked up a rock.

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I gave it a name.

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And then, I stood at the
water with a rock in my hand.

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I gave it your name.

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It felt right, warm and
cold at the same time.

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But I threw it as far as I
could and never saw it splash.

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What have I done, I asked.

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I stood there waiting
for the rock to wash up.

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About 14,000 days
later, I died."

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Thank you very much.

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[APPLAUSE]

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