One Poem by Alec Solomita

 

The Dying Gaul

 

Maybe my body’s all right

but my soul is all wrong.

Of course, my ailments

don’t rise to the level of

Job’s constant anguish,

but I do have gout, arthritis,

high blood pressure,

some stomach trouble,

and the occasional cold.

 

It’s all on account, I feel,

of getting old. Some of

my contemporaries thrive

while others are well-

below ground accompanied

by hungry worms.

And, considering,

my body isn’t all that bad.

 

So I turn to my soul

to track the cause of my diminishment.

And, indeed, it is spotted as a Dalmatian.

I have fallen into a place that contains

only me. Indigenous this indigenous that,

Russia’s devil, Ukraine’s showman,

pro-choice, pro-life.

 

I know when I’m licked.

All I’m certain of is that

The Dying Gaul looks

a lot like Larry Byrd.

 

So, I’m left with a conscience

that beggars description.

And to think I didn’t know

all those years that I

caused grief to the

hearts of others. I didn’t

know, or care. It has been

sixty-five years since

my last confession.

Alec Solomita is a writer and artist working in the Boston (USA) area. His fiction has appeared in the Southwest Review, The Mississippi Review, Southword Journal, and Peacock, among other publications. He was shortlisted by the Bridport Prize and Southword Journal. His poetry has appeared in Poetica, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Litbreak, Driftwood Press, Anti-Heroin Chic, The Galway Review, The Lake, and elsewhere, including several anthologies. His photographs and drawings can be found in Convivium, Fatal Flaw, Young Ravens Review, Tell-Tale Inklings, and other publications. He took the cover photo and designed the cover of his poetry chapbook, “Do Not Forsake Me,” which was published in 2017. His full-length poetry book “Hard To Be a Hero,” came out last spring.