I’m happening, now. I can’t stop myself. It’s always TV about food or food about TV. I’m employed, yes, but not gainfully. Maybe it’s better to start every conversation with a question? I’m a bomb-ass disco dancer, but I’m strictly non-confrontational. People tell me I remind them of a beginner’s trapeze mistake. Yes, my pants are on backwards, but I’m well-armed and extremely courteous. If I had a hammer, the other animals wouldn’t stand a chance. Except for the wolves. Those cowards took the 5th amendment. I’m feeling lucky as a lottery ticket, but that may be an overestimation of the DNA evidence. Ricky said that if you have the right attitude, every day is a holiday. Just think of it. To each his own. I’m going to get to the bottom of this, even if it kills me. Have you ever heard of such a thing? No, I didn’t think so. Get in the car. This is not a test.
Over My Dead Body
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.) Twice nominated for a Pushcart Prize in fiction, Brad’s poetry and fiction have appeared in The Los Angeles Times, Folio, decomP, Lunch Ticket, The Baltimore Review, The Midwest Quarterly, 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 of extremely short poetry and prose: Democracy of Secrets, Dancing School Nerves and Coyotes Circle the Party Store.