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. His first full-length book of poetry, “Hard To Be a Hero,” was published by Kelsay Press in 2021. Both can be found on Amazon. He’s working on another. He lives in Massachusetts.

Imitation of a Poem Beyond my Ken

I read a poem that
someone who is beautiful
said was beautiful
a poem that I didn’t
really understand
at first or now for that
matter. But I trust my
beautiful friend
so I tried again
to understand it.

The poet, wrote that his
college poetry teacher was
possibly a lilac bush in Geneva
that Chagall might have
flown over, and I thought,
“What kind of pretentious fuck
is this guy? Chagall flying
over his teacher, a lilac bush”
In Geneva!

I’m lying depressed
in my bed in Somerville
Massachusetts thinking
about Europe and how
American poets
sojourn there in their work,
those holier than thou
motherfuckers. Or Asia.

Then the poet steals the holy art
of Chagall, likening him,
(Chagall) to the hypnotic,
floating women
in “Marc’s” paintings
using the painter’s first
name and why?

The he talked about being
In Venice, in the Venice Ghetto,
thinking about Chagall
and the Nazis (not the
current ones but
the WW II ones)
and how they sucked.

Then he plays soccer
with the little kids
in the ghetto
before going back
to his pensione
to write a poem
(presumably this one)
about Chagall and
the kids in the ghetto.