After watching edible television, I’m learning to talk to myself. Thinking means different things to different people. Consider the spaghetti western. Simple living requires getting rid of things that you don’t enjoy or that will kill you. Even on summer days the sun keeps its distance. No use getting all riled up. In case I have to rename myself, I’m going to assume a mistaken identity. Can’t wait to see the sequel. Yesterday, I took a walk in the park and realized I am the garden. Sometimes my brain gets on my nerves. When it does, I lip-sync until I align with my pseudonyms. If you see something, say something. I don’t want to watch you sleep at night, but I do.

Brad Rose

was born and raised in Los Angeles and lives in Boston. He is the author of three collections of poetry and flash fiction, Pink X-Ray (Big Table Publishing, 2015), de/tonations (Nixes Mate Press, 2020), and Momentary Turbulence (Cervena Barva Press, 2020). His fourth collection, WordinEdgeWise, is forthcoming in 2021 from Cervena Barva Press.

Five times nominated for a Pushcart Prize, and twice nominated for Best of the Net Anthology, his poetry and microfiction have appeared in The Los Angeles Times, The American Journal of Poetry, Clockhouse, Hunger Mountain, Sequestrum, Folio, decomP, Lunch Ticket, 45th Parallel, The Baltimore Review, Cultural Weekly, Into the Void, Miracle Monocle, Right Hand Pointing, and other publications. His story “Desert Motel” appears in the Best Microfiction 2019 anthology.

Poet’s website: http://bradrosepoetry.com

A list of his publications

Selected readings by the poet