Land of the Free by Brad Rose
I’m in the park. I’m light enough to float. My brain is stronger on the right side. What does it matter where my ideas come from? Is there ever only one thing at a time going on in your mind? I can see the latest birds, now. They look like bullets shooting from those trees. Little black bullets jumping into the sky. The clouds are nice; a little shade, if it doesn’t rain. Thinking about the angry fish I saw in Chinatown, yesterday. Can’t get them out of my head. Orange and yellow– little, ugly, fat cigars. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t single, but I always try to have a good time. Someone who I shall call Maxine said, “Isn’t it a shame about that subway crash? “ She’s right. All those people crushed in a coal-black, smoking tunnel. Probably veterans and pregnant women. A “car mishap” the news said. I should write a letter to the editor. An anonymous letter. What’s wrong with this country? Whose side are we on, anyway?
Brad Rose is the author of a collection of poetry and flash fiction, Pink X-Ray. He has three forthcoming books of mostly prose poems, Momentary Turbulence and WordinEdgeWise, from Cervena Barva Press, and de/tonations from Nixes Mate Press.
Photo by Charl Folscher