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 this past April by Kelsay Press. He lives in Massachusetts, USA.
Lapsed
In grad school I studied religion
in a department split like
a broken heart,
half of the students devout
and the other half former
devotees who despite their
unbelief couldn’t tear themselves
away from the Jesus or Jehovah
they once worshiped, hanging around
their gods like sniffing dogs circling
their dead masters.
Night
Through the wrestling branches
the sky slides above us,
slowly nudging
the few clouds forward
while the stars remain still.
Our young limbs
lace and unlace
on the summery grass
soft and urgent.
You breathe into my ear,
as you fold on top of me,
whispering
“I love you I love you
I love you. You know that,
don’t you?”
Through your dark locks,
I see the high winds
ease the stars across the sky.
St. Francis and Me
When St. Francis of Assisi
caught himself licking
his fingers after eating
some chicken,
he threw his naked body
into a thorn bush and turned
and twisted among the thorns.
Even for the pious boy I was,
this spectacular act of contrition
seemed somewhat excessive.
Nevertheless, I put pebbles in my Keds
to draw nearer to our precious Lord.