Of Godhead and Gravestones
Rip the words from my tongue
before they find form
seven x seven x light
the specks of our eyes
even the swine
bathe now in pearls
even the cursed
catch their own fish
I swim in the gasp of your waves
last lungs on earth
river x ocean x fire
everything is always ending
everything is always burning
everything is always birthing
anon
Apples & Owls at Midnight (part 6)
I’d sing to my oranges
(& mandarins, too/
so cute [ah])
at the airport
(in stereo)(or hi-fi)
as the speakers
from the ceiling (swirl w/sirens)
warn of terror (ring, ring, ring) & human trafficking
(& goblins & ghosts & trolls
[oh my])
and watch
all the people
flock toward the water
at $10 a bottle (per pop
goes the weasel)
after security scoundrels
pilfer the treasure
@ TSA-A®E-US(A)
& promise it’s for
our own greater good (God what a sell/snow job
[so bye-bye freedom/farewell happy hour/
it’s all a
fall {slow drip/methodical} out
syndrome *shakedown* sent from the state
of an empire’s <final> collapse])
I’d sit in the corner
(w/eyes wide open
& ears tuned [half in] out
to the manufactured crisis)
& whisper (the likely %
of sugar) sweet
nothings (everything
is [probably not] going to be
fine)

Scott Thomas Outlar lives and writes in the suburbs outside of Atlanta, Georgia. His work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. He was a recipient of the 2017 Setu Mag Award for Excellence in the field of literature. Selections of his poetry have been translated into Afrikaans, Albanian, Dutch, Farsi, French, Italian, Kurdish, and Serbian. His podcast, Songs of Selah, airs weekly on 17Numa Radio. More about Outlar’s work can be found at 17Numa.com.

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