Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Scott Thomas Outlar- Two Poems

Swelling Gills
One more drink at 3 a.m.
because my bipolar liver
isn’t expecting the lemon juice detox
for another nine hours anyway
so I might as well pour the rum
to the gills
and wait for the organs
to swell up like a whale
beached and breaching
past the last thin layer of reality
to expose the underbelly
of everything
too dense to fade away
too high to lift off
too poisoned to reach paradise
too happy to care a lick
and too raw to be cooked
in absolution’s fire
when Armageddon’s chief liar
comes rolling through with a forked tongue
spitting lava on the empire
kissing death upon the city
writing eulogies for the cabal
and taking names for next Christmas
when coal is coming in heaps
to drag down the stockings
of a festering elitist ragtag assortment
of cronies, crooks, and cowards
who need the good advice
of a death urge chorus choir
to sing them like a siren unto the grave
where worms are eagerly awaiting
for a little fresh bait of their own

Cut Short
It’s all to write one more poem –
every sip
every smoke
every kiss
every dream
every move
every mission

It’s all to drain my psyche dry –
every thought
every action

It’s all to reach a point of exhaustion – 

Scott Thomas Outlar dances to the flowing rhythms of the Tao River while laughing at and/or weeping over life's existential nature. More of his work can be found at 17numa.wordpress.com.

No comments:

Post a Comment