Alec Solomita’s fiction has appeared in the Southwest Review, The Mississippi Review, Southword Journal, and The Drum (audio), among other publications. He was shortlisted by the Bridport Prize and Southword Journal. His poetry has appeared in The Ekphrastic Review, Gnashing Teeth Publishing, The Galway Review, Bold + Italic, Litbreak, Subterranean Blue Poetry, The Blue Nib, Red Dirt Forum, and elsewhere.  His chapbook, “Do Not Forsake Me,” was published in 2017 and is still available at Finishing Line Press and Amazon. His first full-length book of poetry was published last April by Kelsay Press. He’s working on another. He lives in Massachusetts.

Old Lady

There was an old lady
There was an old lady who
I don’t know why she

I don’t know why she
I imagine it was an accident

Sister Francesca, from her
cloister of black cloth, clicking
miles of thick brown beads:
“Master Alexander, close your mouth.
You’ll catch a fly.” That
was 50 years ago. She
must be a very old lady today,

110, at least,
her mouth filled with
dirt in St. Patrick’s cemetery.
I have no idea why she
I don’t know why she
(wiggled and wriggled
and tiggled inside).

I don’t know why she
I don’t know what
and I do not know why