Fire Prevention

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Once, I fell asleep in a fire. It was OK. I’m inflammable. Marguerite says that, like eleven fingers, I have an unusual condition. Sometimes, I talk backwards to the bathroom mirror. Like igniting a kerosene blaze with a rain-damp match, what’s hard for some is easier for others. Just when you think you’ve got your chemicals perfectly mixed, you begin to hear voices in your head again. Mine are whispers about sparks. Yesterday, Marguerite texted me. She said, Don’t forget, you’re out on your own recognizance. Later, as I was carrying my gas can up Lake St., the police stopped me. I told them, I look a lot like my identical twin. They didn’t crack a smile, but they let me go. I went home and locked myself in. Eventually, every fire burns itself out. I felt much better after I listened to the flames.


Brad Rose Contributor
Brad Rose was born and raised in Los Angeles and lives in Boston. He is the author of three collections of poetry and flash fiction: Pink X-Ray (Big Table Publishing, 2015), de/tonations (Nixes Mate Press, 2020), and Momentary Turbulence (Cervena Barva Press, 2020). His fourth collection, WordinEdgeWise, is forthcoming in 2021 from Cervena Barva Press. Five times nominated for a Pushcart Prize, and twice nominated for Best of the Net Anthology, his poetry and micro fiction have appeared in The Los Angeles Times, The American Journal of Poetry, Into the Void, and other publications.
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