Author: Andrew Thomas

History in a breath on the stage. The graveyard is LA. Just down the street. Words written to be said. God save us from the ones that we are. Words are stolen. Tears are a flood. Words written to be said. Parthicus is a child. He is a window to the yard. The grass is…

Down the street an eyelash falls. I am 65. I have become what I was as a child. Myself. Pretty was as is, pretty much as I thought she grinned. Mischievous. Are the stars there for a reason? To catch an eyelash she says, as the boy speaks and says… I attended Church today.

I had a picture of myself on my Gold bicycle. I had a cowboy hat. And a holster. And a cap gun. I was eight years old. I had a picture of myself when all that mattered was Santa. I was five and I was standing off to his right. Did I believe in him.…

FM. I was 13 and Chris had told me about the new Album oriented rock station on FM. Or was I. I have found that what I thought were my memories were just the times when I was in town. The ones out of town I didn’t have memories of. I speak fluent French. I…

Brussel sprouts and oranges. And a Schwinn Stingray with a banana seat. I saw it on tv. And did the tv see me? No that would be silly. Freedom. Tastes like applesauce. On the Fourth of July. And I saw it on tv.

On the way home from school, I was with a friend named Chris. In 1973 the summer before going into 7th grade. He divulged alone to me something. Around the corner and further down the block a man came at us with a gun. He yeld at the kids across the street and fired a…

A flower. A glass. And Andy Warhol. And Carrol. I was a child and she was a child. There is and always was. A little too much dust on that one. Try something more visual… I always wanted to meet Eddie. But the older kids wouldn’t let me hang out with them to wait for…

Western Zizzlin’. Big Valley. Cowboys and Corvettes. Will History forget me? And if the stars drop from the sky, will I have done my job in life? Suffered through the daily news and wondered? God, when will it end? Will it ever right itself? I have and always will be dedicated to you. And if…

Can you be in love with a car? A station wagon? Can you be in love with a friend? I once had a friend whose eyes were dark brown almost black. I thought I was cool because he spent time with me as a kid. He was two years older. When they moved, he stole a…

The seasons tend to bathe themselves in winter around here. Winter is always present and then the sun holds its presence. Unforgotten, unfleeting. Unforgiven. I was if once, if unsaid. If misunderstood. What was, is and always before someone said once something. That is I meant to say. Give me awhile. Something has fallen. I…

A mirror sits on the floor against the wall, empty. It reflects the room. The kindness it once reflected is gone. She is gone. A turtle of all things is on the back porch outside the French Doors, without a child. The house is empty. The three floors echo only silence. And yet here is…

I heard silence. Fifteen of them. We had gone to Disneyland on June 3rd. We had gone to Mailibu, or San Diego to swim that morning. And the night sky said one thing simply, what did it sound like? It sounded like the prize in a Cracker Jack Box, at a baseball game. It sounded…

upon the field leading to the house. And a heartbeat. I was almost three. Alot had led up to this and a lot had been promised. He was an older man and he was kind. And something has taken what was there. My memory of this. No. Its just… I had been asked if I…

I was a child of Vim and Vigor. It said so on my swimming briefs when I was close to two years old. We had a red T-bird convertible 64. And a 66 Lincoln. With a Radio Phone. Let me tell you a story, so the night comes slowly without notice. And in the presence…

Buttercups and Bluebells. And strawberries in tin cups with sugar. I am lightning I said. And the stars are hidden tonight, waiting… for your tears. Yellow and Blue. Buttercups and Bluebells. I have decided to lay the flowers by the side of the road… and what? And get there.

Wishes and a drumstick. A little bit before the door opened and closed. The cold; where have you gone when you are all alone. Does the Counter woman care when you get up to leave. You have shared about 20 minutes of your lifes. I am a woman about 63, she says. And the candles…

A child in a pile of Thanksgiving leaves falls backwards into the pile of leaves. I was upon a stretch to home base a lying SOB. I was the wind in front of me and the emptiness behind me and I was and never was that is to say catch me before I fall. How…

A circle becomes a circle, so becoming. The voice that we become, so becoming. I remember a time back before time before I heard winter’s whisper November trees. And a circle has to remain a circle while we can find ourselves in campers down by the river with our family. While we can get so…