Author: Andrew Thomas

An expression of a sin,until the evening is over.then we can talk around it in the street, walkingdown the street. I was a child, just a child. Look over there down 5th Street in this miracle of God’s hand.Ra gives himself birth among these Tombs of Pharaohs.Basked in the lights of the moon. A swirl…

Two reasons to live. Pain and emptiness. Depression swallows seconds like an event horizon. Or is that the Corvette? Swordfish and, God, I remember. And thank you, God. For a blue, Z06. The emptiness of a highway like a thin sixties tie winding its way past, just past on its way to the ocean and…

The canvas reminds me of soft colors. Brown and green and blue on brown canvas. Twisting around each other. And the twisting turns the canvas smiles, clouds with streaks of black and grays like breaths. Branches reaching up from the ground twisting around each other and the twisting turns the canvas smiles. And the canvas…

We turn twist and fall to be remembered or created? He says with a question, ” Do you remember learning French?” “No.” “Do you remember learning any of the other languages?” “No. There seems to be Italian, Hebrew, and others.” And in the turn of a hand is the presence of God. The turning of…

A guitar and a piano sat alone. There was a singer’s voice down the hallway and a man sitting at a desk in an office. The Church was serving a Wednesday night meal. Two kids had wondered in a little late for the sixties. 1974 and they had a car they had been given in…

There are three reasons to wake up in the morning. One is a shadow with words written in the past. The other is a sign on a wall by a pub in a foreign language. And the third is to see where you are. And if you follow the stairs along the wall you will…

A chair with its leg broken. A typewriter and a Marchant Calculator. An old man turning seventy. A pond at seven in the morning. A whisper to a neighbor. And a tan labrador. These are the days of whispers where everything is broken and only a child knows his own name. I was once the…

We lived in Picayune, Mississippi, on the Saturn first stage for Apollo One. My father explained to me that the Mississippi Tourist Office was a surveillance front for the state government and that local citizens were encouraged at the time, 1966, to stop by the Sheriff’s Office to get Northern license plates if they were…

In Fifth grade I realized that I don’t think in sentences. My thoughts have associations that are not restricted to sentences. When I was young our assignment as a journal perplexed me until one day instead of writing what I had done I wrote about my parent’s neighborhood… manicured lawns and leathered faces, calloused flowers…

A friend of mine said something today in response to something that I said when I said that it changes a person when their parents pass. It was brilliant what she said… yes, we are now the adults in the room. I have noticed that it makes death more real, closer. And I say it…

A cigarette left in an ashtray. A cat, a tabby, and a newspaper against the door. I was once 64. And in October… my cat raises one paw and stretches. The sun talks to me. It says… what are the reasons for the sky? A black and white polaroid photograph from the seventies… curled on…

When I was a child I attended a school with accelerated classrooms. They were just casually sectioned off. It was the 60s and the school was known for intellectually gifted students. And for mainstreaming. One of my friends in class had Tauretes. We lived in an upper-class neighborhood. My friend from Church outreach arranged to…

It was around 1967. I had a gold stingray with a banana seat. I had a cowboy hat and cap gun. One night I knelt beside my father’s bed and I whispered, when I close my eyes I see cartoons. One day when coming home from school my mother told me that she had to…

There are diamonds along the road. Cast along the road. They smile and acknowledge the day. The others, they promised me, the silence of a sidewalk. Even in the presence of a conversation, when I got home. Always. This Sunday I walk to Church alone. I have been there and now I am somewhere else…

It was dry and the sun shone and the smell of the dust being hit by the raindrops. It was a sunny day without much reason. Kim was about 5′ 6″. It was Sunday after service. Sunday in Florence. And the Holiday Inn. I was seventeen and she was my newest best friend for the…

There was a breeze over by the baseball diamond. It was a small town, and the game was starting soon. We had a pizza that we had brought in with us and Pepsi. By the seventh inning the game was tied. The dogs had to be picked up on the way home from the game.…

Daylights turns softly The reasons for winter come upon the day as early fall. I wish upon my soul a wish I wished for you. As a child I knew, what was not said without a word for it. Is there a word for sorrow? I would before a smile know only one thing. But…

There was a piece of Licorish on the table. An open window where the cat came in. A bed and a comforter. And a sleeping Tiger. And a small man in the corner saying over and over…. There was a piece of…. My name is Albert Gray. I live in Hanton, Va. I live 5…

If there is a smile for a second. A branch from a tree falls. A thousand miles away. How similar are the lives of three individuals. Aside from the grass being cut and the clippings in the piles to be bagged. I wait beside the tv. I have a home, and a Guiness Zero. Its…

In 1973 during the summer, I have a memory of visiting with Eddie sitting on a Desk from one of our old labs, in our playroom. I thought it was the first time that I had met him, but it turns out it was right before they moved. I was around 13 and he was…