"... even as the sun folds its shadow across the earth..."

Friday, September 9, 2011

The Thomas Experience


Thomas

While you were busy sleeping, the door you left unlocked creeps open
to let in a stumbler, a midnight alcoholic smoker who could be
a rager, coals on his fat tongue and a brown bottle ready to break
against the wall.                                   
                                     You could die.

Instead you wake up, shower,
the day to day routine. Only when you step into the living room
do you find him snoozing on the rental couch, your TV and computer left
where you left them.

First you think of police, and then no.
He curls like an abused child.
He didn’t even use the cheap blankets.

His phone alarm sounds, and he sits up, asking you
what time is it? can I use the bathroom?
Nothing of where am I? or who are you?
Subdued, you oblige his set of requests,
then you walk him outside
to the parking lot where he first becomes confused,
before discovering that single side street
he recognizes.

His name is Thomas.

How many of him are there?
An ugly force of nature, docile this time,
harmless how many times?

   A homeless god with divine luck.
   a night spirit with a touch of wind.
   a trickster djinn with a weary mask,
   or a derelict demon taking a break.

            Though his presence lingers,
            build no shrine.

It could all be undone in a burning wisp of faith.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If there's one name of a stranger I'll never forget, it's Thomas. For those of you unfamiliar with the experience, I forgot to leave the door to my apartment locked one evening. The next morning, I casually, lazily even, woke up, took a shower, got dressed and all, before wandering out into the living room to find a random guy sleeping on my couch. So what's the first thing I do? I post it on facebook. It doesn't even cross my mind to call the police, though that's what everyone recommended as soon as they saw my status. For some reason, I felt pretty calm about the whole thing. Part of that is because it was obvious he hadn't touched anything in the room. Anyway, the real story goes that I had somewhere I was going that morning with a friend of mine, so I just called up my friend for him to come over earlier. A little after he got here, the stranger's phone alarm went off, he asked me what time it was. I told him. I also told him that he'd probably ended up in the wrong home and I asked him if he lived around here (I thought he was a drunk who had mistaken this apartment for his own). He said no that he didn't live here, but he had driven here. He told us his name was Thomas and he offered us some gum and then asked if he could use the restroom (we accepted the gum). After that we all walked outside. When we got to the parking lot he looked for his car and then turned to us and said "Wait... where AM I?" And then he noticed a street across the road and recognized it and went off in that direction. That is the story of Thomas.

I always knew he'd end up in my poetry one day, an experience like that. I almost hope that he'll be a recurring character, someone who finds his way into many poems. But either way, this is the first poem about him. I hope you enjoy it!

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