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 and named a finalist by the Noctua Review. His poetry has appeared (or is forthcoming) in The Ekphrastic Review, Gnashing Teeth Publishing, The Galway Review, Bold + Italic, The Blue Nib, Red Dirt Forum, and elsewhere. His chapbook, “Do Not Forsake Me,” was published in 2017 and is still available on Amazon. He lives in Massachusetts, USA.

The Empty Chamber

Wistfully I play my lute
Long, and deep into the night,
For my heart is shy
Of the empty chamber.

Wang Wei

Fake noise is more like it,
coming fresh and friendly
from every useless appliance
in the home. Even the washing
machine is saying this is a
challenging time, but we’re
here for you, just don’t forget
the soap, and the softener.
Voices without bodies, TV
anchors naked from the waist
down. So sharp in their high
definition mode, so botty.
“My heart is shy
of the empty chamber.”
But there are benefits:
Were I not here by myself,
I might be in quarreltine
not quarantine.