March 7, 2015


Scott Thomas Outlar lives a simple life, spending his time reading, researching, taking meditative walks, and writing prose-fusion dedicated to the Phoenix Generation.  His work has appeared in venues such as Dissident Voice, Ascent Aspirations, Leaves of Ink, Jellyfish Whispers, Struggle Magazine, Loose Change Magazine, Common Line Journal, and Aphelion.  Scott can be reached at

 Prioritizing the Problems

The heavy headiness of sleep

slams down as a hammer

upon my weary eyelids.

The rain is pounding outside

against the windowpanes.

The neighbor is revving the engine

on his motorcycle,

trying, I suppose, to sound real cool

in the crisp 10 p.m. December air;

trying to impress all the suburbanites

that just go crazy

for the guy that likes to rev his engine.

Ah, Christ, everything is just so heavy

sometimes –

the glass of wine seems heavy

as I go to lift it up

and take another sip,

while pizza warms in the oven

as a second course of dinner

to soak up the heavy red wine

that sloshes around in my liver.

Dead animal flesh and dead wheat

soon will sit heavy in my living guts.

Digestion, disintegration, decimation –

all the damned decadence

that comes with easy accessibility

to dead meat.

In Genesis, it is the

seed bearing fruits

which are referred to as meat, but

now, in this post modern, post

hunter/gatherer, post gender role,

post identity, post care in the world

society, it is dead animal carcass

from a slaughterhouse

that is referred to as meat.

Quite a contrast

in style

that we monkeys

have evolved through.

Shit, just look

at all this amazing progress.

Look at the chicken coops.

Look at the cuckoo nests.

Look at the pigsty.

Look at the arid desert.

Look at the stripped earth.

Look at the toxic sky.

Look at the mutating viruses.

Look at the zombie apocalypse.

Look at the mass marketed drugs.

Look at the televised propaganda.

Look at the theater of war.

Look at the bloody horror amputees.

Look at the millions of gravesites.

Look at the rampantly increasing cancer.

Look at the trendy culture.

Look at the nuclear contamination.

Look at the lake of spilled oil.

Look at the burning wasteland.

Look at the deforestation.

Look at…Ah, Christ,

the pizza is burnt;

what a bummer, what a big

letdown, what a major disaster,

what a reason to whine,

what a large problem to get

all bent out of shape about.

Shit, just lube it up

with ketchup

and flush it down

with more wine –

always, always, always

more wine.

That’s the solution

to all the world’s problems –

if everyone just sat

around the fire together,

drinking wine, eating pizza,

telling stories, shooting the shit,

getting all the stress

off their chests,

off their backs,

out of their minds,

it would be paradise,

a veritable

kumbaya all the time.

Just get some of the petty shit

off our hearts

and out of our consciences

so we can start to deal with

some of the major warts

that have been created

on the face of the Earth.

Put aside all the silly shit

so we can get around

to the things that actually matter.

They keep piling up, up, up;

at some point

we’ll have to get down to the business

of some serious heavy lifting.



it is Holy Spirit

and Kingdom of God

and synchronicity

and miraculous happenstance

and higher truth

and deeper meaning

and love, love, love

all the time


it is soil and dirt

and mud and grime

and shit and slime

and filth and flesh

and animal instinct

and preternatural urge

and worms and caskets

and graves and bones

and dust and ash

unto death


it is metaphors

and abstractions

and allusions

and coded meaning

and beating around the bush

and innuendo

and parables

and fairy tales

and ethics and morality

for the mind


it is straight to the heart

of the core

of the truth

with pinpoint precision

and razor sharp focus

and zeroed in energy

to finish the job

Eat, Drink, and Be Merry

We all sat around the fire,

feasting on flesh,

sipping glasses of blood,

watching the red sky fall,

as the world burned

all around us.

It was awesome.

It was brutal.

It was glorious.

It was over in a flash.

~Scott Thomas Outlar

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