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 lives in Massachusetts.

Shopping

Well he hadn’t aged a bit
in six and a half years,
the spacious, pink undertaker who
opened the door before I knocked
and offered his soft hand.
Oh, wait, one thing was different,
his pink had grown to near fuschia.

But mostly he looked the same,
thin, flaxen, fastidiously combed hair,
white ironed shirt, crisp tie,
gray suit and gleaming shoes,
the formal, friendly smile,
so long practiced it looked real.
He showed me into his front office

which had changed as little as he,
about the same as when I when
I made arrangements for your death.
Casket, service, burial, the whole
nine yards. Although you were
still with us, you were preparing to go.
You’d just recently stopped speaking.

Of course, it’s his job, so he proceeded
to stab me in the heart. Cremation?
No. Embalming, no. Then a trip
To the roomful of caskets. Walnut,
Lilac Silver, Heavenly Mother,
Carolina Cedar, Amber Rose,
Mahogany, Maple, Black Steel.

Like most coffin shoppers,
I didn’t want to pay much
and he sensed it or knew it
or something and he showed
me the cheaper “models” first.
Too ashamed to pick the cheapest,
I chose a nice pine box, second cheapest.

Now that it was my turn,
I chose the cheapest.
Turns out it’s six hundred dollars less
than yours. His look of concern,
which remained on his face
even as his fat fingers flew
over the keys of his calculator,

troubled me, so I lied,
“It’s not for anytime soon.
Just getting my affairs in order.”
His anxious features relaxed.
“You have a double grave
Is that right?” “Yes, two coffins deep.”
Turns out I’ll be the one on top.