My short-term memory
has shriveled to a New York minute.
Except for a few foreign scammers
my phone is as noisy
as a Trappist monk.
When once I was just avoided,
I’m now ghosted equally
by friends and family.
I lie in bed in the morning
(and afternoon), quibbling
with Dorothy Parker
about her poem “Resumé.”
My recycled liquor bottles
and sweet smell of cannabis
frighten the neighbors,
who act like I got the Covid.
I order dinner in because
I’ve started to hate the sun.
I go out at night
and half the bartenders
in town see me and say,
“The usual?”
Maybe it’s my negative attitude.
I had a friend who believes
That there are ways to behave
superior to others
like all that idiot pablum
on Facebook:
“Wake up and be awesome.”
“Everything happens
for a reason.”
“Everyone has an
equal contribution
to make.”
They all remind me
of my favorite line
from the greatly misunderstood
Philip Larkin, someone who
spoke the truth and didn’t
tell you that your day
would be improved
by making your bed
in the morning.
“Death is no different
whined at than withstood.”
The truth at last!
Alec Solomita is a writer working in the Boston area. His fiction has appeared in
the Southwest Review, The Mississippi Review, Southword Journal, among other
publications. He was shortlisted by the Bridport Prize and Southword Journal. His poetry
has appeared in Poetica, MockingHeart Journal, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Amethyst Review,
The Lake, The Galway Review, and elsewhere, including several anthologies. His poetry
chapbook “Do Not Forsake Me,” was published in 2017. His full-length poetry book,
“Hard To Be a Hero,” was released by Kelsay Books in the spring of 2021.
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