All right, folks, I asked you to put away your phones
and turn them off.
I actually want you to take them out if you have them.
If you guys have smartphones, in particular, a couple of things
here.
I have one more poem to read and this last one
I want to try something a little new.
Two things.
Tyler-- or-- I can remember now--
Hannah had mentioned my next book is coming out for National
Poetry Month in April.
It's called Oceanic.
I just saw this now.
So this is absolutely brand new.
I'm so excited.
They told me they'd have it soon soon, but they didn't--
I didn't know how soon.
What I will do for you is if you have--
because this is such a special place and near
and dear to my heart, the state of Arizona,
and I haven't been to Arizona since 2007--
if you can tell me on Twitter--
so you have to at me-- those of you who know that sp--
I hate this kind of talk, but I'm going to say it anyway.
I hate this kind of talk.
If you at me and I'm Aimee Nez--
like @aimeenez-- so it's A-I-M-E-E-N-E-Z.
If you tell me your most favorite thing about the ocean,
I'm going to send you a copy of my own stash--
and I only get like 10 copies--
my own personal stash.
You'll be one of the first people to get that book.
But you have to tell me by like, say, I don't know,
10:00 PM tonight.
So-- and the way the-- for me to see it is you
can do two things.
You can say @aimeenez or just #oceanic
and I'll be able to check it out.
The most creative, wonderful, dazzling answer
will get a copy sent directly to me from Mississippi.
So just as a FYI on that.
Tyler and Hannah, I can't thank you enough for this time.
And I'm going to see you guys again,
if you come out from my craft talk.
I have one last poem to read to you
and I wondered if you guys can-- if you can dim the lights.
Can you turn on the light on your phone,
if you have a light on your phone.
I want to do the thing that they do at concerts.
And you'll see why.
My son-- my son's in second grade--
he's now actually in fifth grade.
He's actually in fifth grade.
His favorite animal in the ocean is
something called the vampire--
or, sorry, something called the firefly squid.
And what it is this right here, if you guys want
to just take a look.
If you see-- it's off the coast of the China Sea into Japan.
When the squid groupings come up and washed ashore,
they start flickering like this.
And it looks just a little bit like this.
So if you guys don't mind for just this last poem,
I wanted to read this poem.
It's the opening poem to Oceanic.
And this to the-- especially to the students out there,
to anyone who's trying to write and make art in this time
more than ever, this is dedicated to you.
This is called "Invitation."
Come in, come in, the water is fine.
You can't get lost here.
Even if you wanted to hide behind a clutch
of spiny oysters, I promise, I will find you.
If you ever leave me at night by boat,
you'll see the arrangement of golden sun stars
in a sea of milk.
And though it's tempting to visit them, stay.
I've been trained to look up and up all my life,
no matter the rumble on earth.
And I've learned it's OK to glance down once in a while
and glance down into the sea.
So many lessons bubble up if you just know where to look.
Clouds of plankton hurricaning and open whale mouths
will send you east and chewy urchins will slide you west.
Squid know how to be rich with 10 empty arms.
And there are humans who don't know the feel of a good bite
and embrace at least once a day.
Underneath you narwhals, I promise,
will be spinning upside down while their singular
tooth needles you like a compass pointed towards home.
Deep where imperial volutes and hatchet fish live--
colors humans have not yet named--
glow in caves made from black coral and clamshell.
A giant squid finally, finally let
itself be captured in a photograph
and the paper nautilus ripple flashes scarlet and two
kinds of violet when it silvers you near.
Who knows what will happen next?
If you still want to look up, I hope
you see the dark sky as oceanic, boundless, limitless,
like all the shades of blue revealed in a glacier.
Let's listen.
Let's really listen how this planet
hums with so much wing, fur, and fin.
Thank you all so, so much.
Thank you.
[APPLAUSE]