Alec Solomita’s fiction has appeared in the Southwest Review, The Mississippi Review, Southword Journal, and Heart of Flesh Literary Journal, among other publications. He was shortlisted by the Bridport Prize and Southword Journal, and named a finalist by the Noctua Review. His poetry has appeared in Algebra of Owls, The Lake, The Galway Review, Panoplyzine, The Blue Nib, and elsewhere. His chapbook, “Do Not Forsake Me,” was published by Finishing Line Press in October of 2017, and is still available on Amazon. He lives in Massachusetts, USA.

Good Help Is Hard To Find

Good help is hard to find,
and harder when you’re older.
But we need help of every kind,
which means I must be bolder.
Changing one’s style at this late age
is like choosing a career on stage

or learning how to change a tire
or speaking fluent mandarin.
Yes it’s hard but I aspire
and though it might lack élan,
I’ll raise my voice like I’m on fire,
if that is what’s required.

I’ll make appointments with the docs,
find nursing homes we both can stand
I’ll be as wily as a fox,
make sure we dodge the saddest ones.
We’ll find a place with Happy Hour
and you’ll enjoy your whiskey sour.

I’ll buy a gravesite for us two.
Who dies first goes on the bottom,
the next on top when s/he is through.
I’m no missionary, my honey plum,
either posture pleases me
even for eternity.


‘To say I love you is redundant.’
He whispered o’er her bed,
‘It’s a bit like saying the sky is blue.’
‘But at dusk,’ she said, ‘it’s red,
So how can I know you’re true?’

‘Well,’ he said, ‘you can think what you think:
I love you at dawn when the sky is pink,
I love you at night when it’s dark as ink,
I love you in rain when the sky is wan.
I’ll love you my dear even when you’re gone.