Fall 2009, Volume 7

Poetry by Christopher Thomas

Reading the Journal of a Crazy Lady #1

Four-toed creatures have moved into the trees
outside my bedroom window.  One of them
has become so brave, it now comes around on

the day I hang out the wash.  Sometimes it stands
on the other side of a sheet hung to dry daring
me to step to the other side and face it armed

with nothing but my clothespins, laundry basket
and intestinal fortitude.  I do not know if they
are covered with feathers, feathery fins or thin

garments made of something kin to silk and lace.
All that stuff looks the same when you squint
to see them.  I do know this: they can see through

blinds and drapes into rooms and don’t need
a light on to figure out where you are hiding. 
There have been times when I was in the shower

that I could hear them sniggering in the bedroom. 
It made me worry they might hide in my closet
or under the bed.   But each time I returned to my

room, they were back out in the trees pretending
they weren’t capable of passing through solid walls
the way the rest of us pass through open doorways. 

Tomorrow I will pick apples from one of those
trees.   I will make sauce from most of them
but have started a tradition of baking a pie or two

and placing them on the ground beneath the branches
of those trees.  They always eat the pies which is,
of course, all the  proof  I need of their existence.


BIO: Christopher Thomas has been publishing poems for many years. His work has appeared in Amelia, Bay Windows, Chiron Review, Duckabush Review, Evergreen Chronicles, The James White Review, New York Native, Paramour Magazine, and others. Some of his work has been anthologized. Lone Willow Press will publish his collection, The Smell of Carnal Knowledge, sometime in late 2009.