Brad Rose

Power Failure

Since you stormed out,
faster than lightning,
I lie here, awake,
in the night’s dark bruise,
waiting for the next blackout.

Brad Rose was born and raised in southern California, and lives in Boston. His chapbook of
miniature fiction is from Right Hand Pointing, Coyotes Circle the Party Store.
  

Brad Rose

A Cure for an Amarillo August

Road-worn, dusty, and lined,
Ray has a face like a license plate
on a stalled Texas pick-up,
but as he wraps his wrangler’s arms
around her, Roxanne swoons as if he were
a cool,
dizzying
shot
of ice-cold
anesthesia.

Brad Rose was born and raised in southern California, and lives in Boston. His chapbook of
miniature fiction, from Right Hand Pointing, Coyotes Circle the Party Store, can be read here.

Brad Rose

Delusions of War

Like a shrapnel hole puncturing an olive-drab helmet
there was a sudden lull in the fighting,
during the dead silence of which,
I imagined I would one day die
of natural causes.

Brad Rose’s poetry and fiction are at http://bradrosepoetry.blogspot.com/

Brad Rose

They Never Found My Father’s Body

I recall the dust-gray ordinariness
of my father’s face,
and how, each day,
in clean overalls, he left
for the Upper Big Branch mine,
but never once said
goodbye.

Brad Rose was born and raised in southern California, and lives in Boston. His chapbook of
miniature fiction, from Right Hand Pointing, Coyotes Circle the Party Store, can be read here.

Brad Rose

Early Spring Evening Three-Car Collision

The rain, evenly distributed,
acting pretty
in the black and chrome stare
of six stunned headlights.

Blue Period

At the end of the saddest sentence,
you pause,
avert your face,
and gaze out the maternity hospital’s window,
into the broken-hearted distance,
as if searching
for the perfect
punctuation.

Brad Rose’s poetry and fiction can be found at: http://bradrosepoetry.blogspot.com/ 

Brad Rose

Emo Girl and Me at El Vagabundo

Eyes, a condemned asylum,
fingernails, blue as a boxer’s vein,
you’re a drunk-haired dream
skiffing me across
this Mexicali dance floor,
just trying to make me feel
……….good
……………..better,
……………………..the best,
I’ve ever felt
in this buzz-shrill demimonde,

and I’ll be damned

if
I
ain’t
already

………….half-
………….way
……………………….there.

 

Brad Rose lives in Boston. Links to his poetry and fiction can be found at: http://bradrosepoetry.blogspot.com/ 

 

Brad Rose

My Toughest Critic 

As my desk drawer glides gently shut,
I take cold comfort in knowing
its rectangular, oaken darkness, alone,
has read all my poems.

 

Brad Rose was born and raised in southern California, and lives in Boston. Links to his poetry and  fiction can be found at: http://bradrosepoetry.blogspot.com/

Today

marks the 4th anniversary of
One Sentence Poems going live. 

We published our first poem on March 14, 2014. It was by Eric Burke. We’ve made an Eric Burke poem an anniversary tradition at OSP, and Eric’s latest will hit your inbox shortly.

Sometime this summer, we will publish our 1000th poem. When we do, we’ll probably miss that we did it and then we’ll realize we did when we publish poem #1009 or something. It’s like that thing that happens with the odometer of your car when you look forward to it rolling over 88,888 miles and you forget and you look down and it’s at 88, 894. DAMN IT!

Let’s mark this occasion by establishing the One Sentence Poems Hall of Fame of People Who Have Published the Most Work on One Sentence Poems. Here they are:

  • Howie Good
  • Brad Rose
  • Devon Balwit
  • Andy Fogle
  • J. R. Solonche
  • Keith Nunes
  • Mark Young
  • Steve Klepetar
  • William Cullen, Jr.

Thanks to these folks, and thanks to all who have submitted, all who subscribe, all who are our readers.

Special shout-out to Editor Emeritus Robert Scotellaro.

Dale & Elizabeth