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.
