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. He was longlisted for the erbacce-prize 2020. His chapbook, “Do Not Forsake Me,” was published in 2017 and is still available at Finishing Line Press and Amazon. He lives in Massachusetts, USA.
Cain Slew Abel
Cain slew Abel.
You don’t need any Kierkegaard
writhing on a bench in the churchyard
to exegete that inaugural murder.
But back to Abe and traumatized Isaac.
Why did God order Abraham to sacrifice
his sweet son? That’s my question,
take it or leave it. The Lord’s insecurity
about the faith of this man of faith
is what I can’t figure. An uncertain Yahweh,
don’t make no sense ’tall, as Cain, the farmer
might put it before spitting on his once
fertile fields. Both of these Biblical boys
must have suffered from PTSD.
Don’t tell me about the old days.
They started all this, let’s face it.
I went out just as the sun was going down
and twilight began to lean against the shingles.
It was still cool and plenty light enough
to find my way to the small back garden
by following the clinking of ice in my glass,
where I gingerly lowered myself onto the beach chair.
Yes, goddamit, yes. Here, too, you were,
a wraith bending over your wilted flowers.