Tuesday, October 16, 2018

Andrew J. Thomas Features 10/22/18



10/22/2018 Andrew J. Thomas  hosted by Gary 




Andrew J. Thomas was born and raised by a couple of hippies in a small Alabama town. And if that wasn't confusing enough, he joined the Navy and traveled all over Europe before relocating to Oakland, California. Married too young, he soon became a dad, got divorced and found a "real" job. Eventually he remarried and settled down in the Bay Area brackish waters known as Vacaville. These days, he is a sad man full of sad words that he sometimes shares in order to make you sad.

When he's not enjoying your tears, he's busy parenting two young adults, or professionally bullshitting for a living. He's the webmaster for various poets and small presses and a founding member of The Beast Crawl Literary Festival. His book, Strangeland, was the inaugural publication from Naked Bulb Press, even though he is generally unpublished due to laziness and fear. Unable to completely abandon his Southern roots, he still enjoys politeness, fried food, and whiskey.



The Myth We Lent to GodTo Hart Crane

In pieces now, slowly dissected, a little less there each time
I drive across the bay from east to west.
At night, a silhouette of what once was, the shadow of a beast, 

that grey metal testament of man’s faith in man,
stretching from crane to crane.

The replacement, a white lighted beacon of hope 
suspended on the precipice of disillusion;
Rust already eating away at the unseen foundational cracks, 
as man is no longer capable of such impossible feats.

And yet we witness the reversal of construction,
a more intentional disassembly than Loma Prieta.
There is a metaphor here about the limitations of belief, 
another about impermanence.
The myth is being forgotten.

We are owed an explanation that will never come, 
because man, like God, won’t make good on his promises.