Jose Padua: The Pursuit of Happiness

It was the 60s way
before the summer of love
when after being turned
away from the entrance
to Mayo Beach because
we’re people of color,
or, specifically, as
the guy at the gate
says, “Flips,”
we drive further down
the bay to a beach
that lets us in
right away.
My Mom and Dad
stretch the beach blanket
out slowly, carefully,
before finally looking out
toward the bay,
because it is a given
that on some days it is
harder than others
to spread joy.

— Jose Padua