Scott Thomas Outlar survived the chaos of both the fire and the flood...barely. Now he spends the hours flowing and fluxing with the ever changing tide of the Tao River while laughing at and/or weeping over life's existential nature. His words have appeared recently in venues such as Yellow Chair Review, Dissident Voice, Poems-for-All, Tuck Magazine, and Clockwise Cat. Links to his published material can be found at 17numa.wordpress.com.
Rush Hour
The oil
fields
are on fire
in an
Apocalyptic blaze,
but the
gasoline
still flows
freely
from a
million pumps
into a
billion cars
that suck
greedily
upon the
teat
of a black
gold feast,
guzzling
petrol by the gallon
to serve
rush hour needs
in a fast
paced world,
before
belching
the acidic
fumes
into an
increasingly cloudy sky,
poisoning
the atmosphere
with a haze
of smog
that hangs
heavily
over all
our heads
like an
ominous bomb
ready to
drop
its load of
doom at any minute
to prove
the theory
that nature
always gets
the last laugh;
and fools
only
quicken their pace
toward an
already yawning grave
that
doesn’t need any help
but sure as
hell
won’t turn
down the assistance
in filling
the plot with bones,
covering
them over with dirt,
and
spinning the next cycle
in a give
and take process
toward a
fossilized future
laid to
rest and waste.
Yawning Stars
I watched
you yawn a universe into existence
I witnessed
as you sang a cosmos into style
I saw you
sigh, and the heavens roared
then you
smiled, and the gods came alive
I felt you
move, and the stars fell into rhythm
then you
danced, and the planets cycled into their place
You closed
your eyes, and the full moon shined
and when
they opened, the sun blazed hot
Your
passion flared, and the earth shook violently
but then
you laughed, and all grew calm
You said
Yes, and the gates flew open
Your power
coursed through every wave
You spoke
the Word, and the gospel was born
Your
vibration, a serenade of the holy symphony
~Previously published in Dissident Voice
~Previously published in Dissident Voice
Fill in the Blanks
Hawk
in a tree
Rabbit
on the
ground
Midnight
hour
Shadow
falls
Silence
creeps
Darkness
devours
~Scott Thomas Outlar
~Scott Thomas Outlar