But Not Always
Last night, the sky looked like a black lawn. I went to bed and had a fast dream. It might have
meant something, I’m not sure. It’s hard work
salvaging scrap metal from flying bullets.
I don’t think the neighbors know I’m living next door. I think the husband died. Usually, people
do things for a reason.
Through my living room wall, I can hear the woman’s life rush though her, like a river rushes
through itself, the telepathic frequencies lost in her hair. Is she laughing carefully or weeping
Fumes rest against my temples. From inside the television, the music swims like a motor of lies. I
need a machine for talking to the future, so I can explain why it’s important to decelerate your
Yesterday, I read about a man serving multiple life sentences. Now I’m wearing my leather
gloves. They’re black as a midnight ditch. My hands are quiet as rabbits. I’m prepared to
evacuate the premises.
Usually, people know what they’re doing, they have a plan. They’re in control.
Usually, people do things for a reason.
BRAD ROSE was born and raised in Los Angeles, and lives in Boston. He is the author of Pink X-Ray, Big Table Publishing, 2015 (www.pinkx-ray.com ) Twice nominated for a Pushcart Prize, Brad’s poetry and fiction have appeared in The Los Angeles Times, Folio, decomP, The Baltimore Review, The Midwest Quarterly, Lunch Ticket, San Pedro River Review, Off the Coast, Posit, Third Wednesday, Boston Literary Magazine, Right Hand Pointing, and other publications. Brad is the author of three electronic chapbooks: Right Hand Pointing: Democracy of Secrets, Dancing School Nerves, and Coyotes Circle the Party Store. Links to Brad’s published poetry and fiction can be found at:http://bradrosepoetry.blogspot.com/.