Author: Brad Rose


Once I nearly fell off Riley’s houseboat and drowned. Now, I’m going to get my pants altered. Took the muscle relaxant. It’s nearly noon, but my hands are still near my fingertips. They say I’m adjusted, but not well-adjusted. Sometimes my skin melts off my face. Last night the sky gave me the silent treatment, but if you’re like me, you always keep a bag packed, under the bed. You never know. Driving out on Tunnel Road, usually I don’t miss myself until it’s too late. Riley was like that, too. I loved him like a brother. It happened...

Read More


Amid the bodies of the trees, or next to the sea, I stand perfectly still, a circle around myself. I am my own address. At home, I turn off the lights, think more clearly about invisibility. Whenever I pull back the curtain from the window, I hear the microwaves listening to me. They’re godless, like animals, but so are the gods. At room temperature, I talk to myself, anonymously. I’m the person I was when I was born, what I say isn’t a surprise. Sometimes, I wonder if the future is still interested in me, and I forget what...

Read More