Saltwater Downs

At a late early hour
I fizzled out of sheets;
covers seemed draped
over a body lazily as if to say,
“He may or may not rise again”

To the carpet, to the floor
to the drooping brass handle on the door
I turned the knob with a firm grip
and heard a noise like this:
saxophone scream and squeal
shredding like claws of steel
or nails down a chalkboard

I drank saltwater from the tap
though the nearest ocean is miles away;
I’m deep underwater today
and tonight I go submerged again;
this submarine I can’t get
free of, what was I thinking of
when I tangled myself in these times
these saltwater downs of my life

Noah Walters is originally from Marion, Illinois. He is pursuing degrees in economics and accounting and is the 2023-2024 recipient of the Evans Harrington Creative Writing Award for Poetry at the University of Mississippi.