By Brad Rose Counting backward in dog years, I fell asleep during my trial. I dreamed I saw the ocean for the first time. The sea’s blue voice opened the sky’s solemn jaw, while the waves’ tingling excitement curled toward the beige sand. Monied sunbathers faced the water as if it were a god or … Continue reading Swimming in Money
By Brad Rose I’m a very person. It’s not the anesthesia. Here, with you, beneath the cross-eyed moon, while we eat these silver slivered minnows, it’s like a medical condition. Last night, I dreamed we were warming our feet by a cozy forest fire, the ketchup-colored flames burning through our sleep. You, a one-fingered pianist, … Continue reading Second Date? (It’s Funny What a Little Moonlight Can Do)
By Brad Rose My brain is awake, my body asleep. It’s like the sun shining in the rain. I see things that aren’t there: next to the lake, angels eating breakfast; near the girls’ dormitory, dogs on fire. Who should I tell? I like clouds—nimbus, cirrus, anvil—ghost-empty, fog-quiet, the slow march of the sky’s lonely … Continue reading Perfect Weather
