by Brad Rose
The Miami real estate market is so hot, it’s melting the North Pole. Naturally, you can’t tell who’s innocent and who’s guilty just by looking at a courthouse. My doctor says I’m not taking enough drugs, but I told him that in a flight simulator, a bird doesn’t need any wings. Luckily, after my latest bank robbery I had enough money left over to have my fortune read by Madame Pommade. She took one look at my greasy lifeline and said that if I eat my ice cream while standing up, it won’t have any calories. Hey, it’s Paris fashion week, again. Yeah, I know what you mean. Don’t you just love the emperor’s new outfit? I’m telling you, that guy dresses sharper than a guillotine. He’s the bomb. Some people say he doesn’t have much on, but in my opinion, he’s always dressed to kill.
Brad Rose was born and raised in Los Angeles, and lives in Boston. He is the author of four collections of poetry and flash fiction: Pink X-Ray, de/tonations, Momentary Turbulence, No. Wait. I Can Explain, and two forthcoming books of prose poems, WordInEdgeWise and Lucky Animals. Seven times nominated for a Pushcart Prize and three times nominated for the Best of the Net Anthology, Brad’s poetry and fiction have appeared in, The Los Angeles Times, Big City Lit, The American Journal of Poetry, New York Quarterly, Puerto del Sol, Clockhouse, Folio, Cloudbank, Baltimore Review, 45th Parallel, Best Microfiction 2019, Lunch Ticket, and other publications. Brad is also the author of seven poetry chapbooks, among them, Democracy of Secrets, Collateral, An Evil Twin is Always in Good Company, and Funny You Should Ask. His website is www.bradrosepoetry.com His blog is https://bradrosepoetry.com/blog/