I write too much of loss,
but what else is going on
at three in the morning?
The old blues singers knew,
sitting up in bed on hot nights,
brows ringed with sweat.
The usual ensemble:
money gone, woman gone,
whiskey gone, nothing
but seeds and twigs
in the sad pouch by the bed.
And a nameless, snaking fear
that starts in the lungs
and rises behind the eyes.
Alec Solomita is a writer working in Massachusetts. His fiction and poetry have appeared in many journals and anthologies, including the Southwest Review, The Mississippi Review, The Lake, The New Criterion, The Rye Whiskey Review, The Galway Review, Red Dirt Forum, and One Art. His chapbook “Do Not Forsake Me,” was published in 2017. His full-length poetry book, “Hard To Be a Hero,” was released s in the spring of 2021. Both of these are available on Amazon. He’s just finished his third collection, “Glass Flowers.”
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