St. Thomas the Local

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ST. THOMAS THE LOCAL


At the intersection where Georgia 2 

hits Old Lafayette Rd, trucks bearing 

official insignia clog the asphalt esophagus

mid-gulp. But as they spin it, the real

foreign object is Thomas the Local 

street-preacher, stuck in a storm 

drain for over 24 hours beneath 

the interstate before someone heard a voice. 


Here, two stories intersect: In one,


Thomas, too, heard voices singing 

in the off-key chorus of his brain

and followed oblivion into near-oblivion

if not for the hoard of unsung

blue-collar saviors scrapping 

in the mud to save both the man beneath

the freeway and their mortgage, some savings

for their spouse to finish school. 


In another, Thomas still heard the voices

singing him down, down to the river,

and dammit he'd almost made his way out

through the narrow grate that escapes

this linear-logical nonsense

he'd spent his life raging against

when the Empire did what they do,

blocking not only his but our way through

by inviting us to shame ourselves

for tunneling outlandish theories

when a tax-paying man’s life is on the line. 


Regardless, either way you turn

a man’s life is on the line,  

and—is anyone surprised?—

neither one quite seems to fit

the narrow way the water runs.


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