Scott Thomas Outlar (1980) hosts the site 17Numa.com 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. Scott was a recipient of the 2017 Setu Magazine Award for Excellence in the field of literature. His words have been translated into Afrikaans, Albanian, Dutch, Farsi, French, Italian, Kurdish, and Serbian. His radio podcast, Songs of Selah, airs weekly on 17Numa Radio.
Homeward Bound
I sang to my Father
on his deathbed.
He had not spoken a word
in days, cancer-ridden,
organs collapsing, high on morphine,
but I knew he could still hear me.
I sang a song
from a book I’d written
years earlier during a particularly
good time in my life, and this,
being a particularly dark time,
seemed like the right time
to balance the dualistic energies.
I don’t think
I gave such considerations
that much thought
at the time; I was just sad
and wanted to sing, wanted
my Father to hear my voice
in a deep bass tone
that mirrored his own.
I sang a song called Home.
I sang it with all my soul,
as a goodbye note
to the most important person
I have ever known.
Return of the Fission
Prometheus tasted the fire
on the tip of my tongue,
too explosive to steal,
and he wept like a broken god
hanging on the galactic cross
as the sky lost all light,
dimming under the weight of darkness,
waiting for the next eruption
while space folded inward upon itself
into a state of entropy.
I only exhale
when the goddess begs for warmth,
and my breath is nuclear
in a field of salted earth…
planning to erect pillars in her honor
as the heavens roar
and the blanket of oblivion
stretches out to cover us in kisses of absolution.
Two fish swim through the ocean above us,
pissing wine from the barrel of Aquarius,
and Dionysus dances in maddened revelry,
cackling along with the chaos
of our orgasmic frenzied fervor
as the focus of my two eyes is shattered…
the blinded orbs roll back in my head
to touch a zero-point ascension –
a crescendo, a climax, a cancer,
a new wave cometh to burn.
Of Sand And Sugar
delicate and deliberate
soft
these spells take time
the last granule
of sugar
its texture scratching
your tongue
my tongue
our tongues are melting
one more grain
of sand
its hour
passing
overturning
history is repeating
Sweet Tooth
Look me in the eyes
when I sing to you
The same way I turn mine away
when you’re screaming
There are aliens in the air tonight
that don’t know the meaning of fear
If there is sugar hiding under the rocks
I will hunt it
And gnaw on every upturned stone
with my front teeth
Eternal And Infinite
Are those stars
or the headlights of a car?
O my dear,
we are all just deer
staring at God.
Comments