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Scott Thomas Outlar






Painting Ourselves into Corners

Nietzsche said

that the poets lie too much.

I’d elaborate on the subject

if I weren’t already in too deep.

I Still Sometimes Wonder What Happened

We used to drive for hours

to faraway destinations

across the country,

alternating turns at the wheel

and never, for an instant,

running short

on things to speak about.

We used to lay in bed all day

in one another’s arms,

whispering all the sweet words

that young couples do

when first falling head over heels

between the sheets.

We used to go out for dinner

and drink deeply

of wine

and each other’s eyes

from across the table

while we planned a future

that seemed surefire

to never fall apart.

But we weren’t the first lovers

to share such magic

in every experience

while our lust was fresh and new,

and we weren’t the first lovers

to lose it all over time

as the sad truth

became apparent

that love is never enough.

Elusive Accord

Howling winds kiss my cold cheeks,

and I pretend that your fingers

are grazing against my skin.

Illusions shatter in Winter…

I am left with only ice

on this path.

Walking alone…toward something…


I’ll know it when I find it.

Across the distance,

hanging on the far horizon,

a siren sings her January melody.

A lullaby meant

to lull me to sleep…

but I’d freeze here all alone.

Trudging ahead with clear intentions…

focused on the future…

elusive though it might seem at times.

The clock strikes

a Midnight chime,

and I am the bell tolling.

I am the bird whistling

while working my way

back into the comfort of your warmth.

The Second Coming/Don’t Choke

Maybe the funniest thing

I’ve ever heard

(at least in the past day)

was a woman

from the crowd

of a deep fried asparagus

speed eating competition

screaming lines such as,

“Don’t overstuff your mouth!”

and, “Keep swallowing!”

Sage advice,

considering the circumstances.

I had to pause the video

to document her wisdom for posterity,

so there’s no telling

what message

she might still

decree from God.

Part II

“Make sure you breathe,”

wound up being the next eternal nugget

heard after hitting play.

All cynicism aside,

I must admit,

that’s some pretty solid stuff

for any situation –

Slicing through the Silk

Your black waves of chaos break hard

as the truth emerges in apocalyptic signs

I did not come here to play a game

where we both wind up drowning in the end

Leaving the space where the fault lines collapse

is not an act of cowardice or fear

The only option left to keep the balance

is fleeing from your tangled web of drama

A widow comes with venom on her tongue

meant to lace straight into the victim’s heart

My immunity was strengthened through the ages

to the point were no poison can seep in

This may feel like a dagger piercing omega

but I swear it is a new dawn alpha that I seek

About the Poet

Scott Thomas Outlar hosts the site where links to his published poetry, fiction, essays, interviews, reviews, live events, and books can be found. His work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. Outlar was a recipient of the 2017 Setu Magazine Award for Excellence in the field of literature. Selections of his poetry have been translated into Afrikaans, Albanian, Dutch, Italian, French, Persian, and Serbian. He has been a weekly contributor for the cultural newsletter Dissident Voice since 2014. His most recent book, Abstract Visions of Light, was released in 2018 through Alien Buddha Press. His show, Songs of Selah, airs weekly on 17Numa Radio.

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