September

Category: Page Three

  • Antwerp

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    by

    Andrew Thomas
    in ,

    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,…

  • The Book of Orphans

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    by

    Andrew Thomas
    in ,

    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…

  • Silicone Valley

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    by

    Andrew Thomas
    in ,

    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…

  • Centipede

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    by

    Andrew Thomas
    in

    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…

  • Essential

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    by

    Andrew Thomas
    in ,

    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…