Saltwater Joy

Kat Flores

In the middle of a graveyard shift,

like Piglet’s whimsy free falling from the sky,

carefree and smiling.

Heart gushing with joy because lemons are being squeezed into my eyes,

but life!

Life is still good.

Didn’t you hear?

The government has turned on all of us,

and I got laid off from work,

and they’re not going to pay me,

and I’m probably getting sued

for defending science and medicine and human rights,

but the sun!

This glorious sun gleaming on this October face!

This sun!

Feeding the biggest appetite I’ve ever had. Everything

is rotting in the Upside Down and I’m giggling here.

So much warmth in my heart

it’s bursting at the seams.

It might be pericarditis, who knows?

Because, as for me, this solar power gives me strength.

I want to take us to the ocean,

dive front forward in my Jeep into the Pacific,

come out tasting the freedom of saltwater on our skin,

brined, boned, upright, and alive,

high-fiving and skinny dipping toward the shore.