I tried to break into the aerospace industry, but those damn crop circles are just too dangerous.
The mountains may hate their altitude, but why must there always be so much coal and so few
diamonds? Of course, in the past there was more future, like last Tuesday, when dressed in
tropical fruit colors, I visited the Cartoon Museum. I could hardly believe my eyes, everything
seemed so real. Marcy said, it was probably the enzymes or the black light. The place was so
crowded that, when nobody was looking, everybody left. Can’t blame them. I’ve been married
four times–twice to the same woman, and now they’re all gone. Most New Year’s resolutions
fail by January 2nd. Yesterday, I was dialoging with myself outside the welfare office, That’s just
the way the ball bounces, Travis. But nobody says that anymore. Adam and Eve had it made,
until they ate all those peaches. I told Marcy that God shouldn’t have made it so easy to break the
law. She said it had to work that way. Without lightning, thunder would be invisible. No one
would pay attention. On the way home, I warned her not to put her legs out through the open car
window, because it might cause a fatal accident. She said, Shut up Travis. Everyone drives a
different route, but sooner or later, everybody comes to the same stop light.
Brad Rose is the author of a collection of poetry and flash fiction, Pink X-Ray (Big Table Publishing, 2015 and on Amazon.) His new book of poems, Momentary Turbulence, is forthcoming from Cervena Barva Press. Brad is also the author of five chapbooks of poetry and flash fiction, Democracy of Secrets, Coyotes Circle the Party Store, Dancing School Nerves, An Evil Twin is Always in Good Company, and Away with Words. Brad’s blog and his website. Selected readings can be heard here.