Author: Andrew Thomas
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Thank You
My site is at the moment how I want it. Thank you for the time you spend here, during the day reading my posts. I thought of that today. First the concrete: that you have set here and read these. And second the very considerate: that you spend your valuable time reading my work…. I…
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Antwerp
My father gave me a trip to Paris, Brussels, Antwerp and the Van Gogh museum in Amsterdam. I stayed at the Marriot. In Amsterdam I walked past Vincent’s painting of crows from the crow field after the entrance and the drawings of the coal miners. And I ended up, at the end, by the tree,…
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The Book of Orphans
The Slaves and The Prisoners and The Book of Orphans. When I was a child the HS Art Show. One was the contours of a person beneath a sheet. A soft sculptured Moose head on the wall. And a soft Baby Grand of Beethoven’s on the floor without legs. An airbrush of an ostrich with…
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Boston in September 1963
There is I think a woman named Patsy Cline who lingers from my past around this time period, Larger than Dezi and Lucie and larger than Rosean Barr. This below of course is not Patsy Cline however I would kind of like it to be… I am going to put this as a place holder…
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Silicone Valley
And God thank you I wasn’t born in Kansaas or to live my life like this. Like this old man conjectured. Tasting the vowels. I was a child of California. And I follow along the… Robin help me? And God I pray I finish today and come back for tomorrow because today was so much…
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Centipede
It’s just my nature… silent the wind blows the creature. Centipede. Cargo unloading. Cars. And then Punk Rock rises its ugly head. I was you will see. Nothing more and nothing less than a conniving Centipede on the back of a poor unsuspecting frog. I was you may say. Something red and something gray. Or…
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Essential
The street fell south, fell towards the broken. And the song? The song was a witness once forgotten. Twice ignored. And three times mistaken. The corridor. The alley. The doorway. O’ yes, the doorway. The doorway led to Sand Cooper. A car shop of 442s. Candy Apple…. did you figure that one out? And I…
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Carrol
I see that I am imitating Jim Carrol a lot. I think I am using the underpinnings the architecture of Browning and using Carrol as the voice, the subject. That I am intentionally trying to sound street while giving away that there is something more, something else, something wrong with the picture. What I have…
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My name is Chris
In My Life; Your Life I was playing with a lot of ideas. I hope they pleasantly accompany your day’s conversations.
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My Life; Your Life
I walk past five minutes of your life like a quiet albatross in the existence of chrome lenses. A soft shouldered Moose walking down the street… soo cool. Stiletto and heels on concrete. I give you these… we three mice… we three kittens… we three cooks… we three mathematicians. Einstein and Bohr… in a walk…
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Memories
I have realized I do not have lost memories or suppressed memories from Trauma. I have discussed this and I am realizing that what feels like lost memories are just memories I have never discussed. Why? I just kept things to myself. Honestly. I had a best friend and a personality that felt protective of…
September 