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 guest-edited the Hope Anthology of Poetry from CultureCult Press as well as the 2019, 2020, and 2021 Western Voices editions of Setu Mag. Selections of his poetry have been translated into Afrikaans, Albanian, Bengali, Dutch, French, Italian, Kurdish, Malayalam, Persian, Serbian, and Spanish. His sixth book, Of Sand and Sugar, was released in 2019. His podcast, Songs of Selah, airs weekly on 17Numa Radio and features interviews with poets, artists, musicians, and health advocates. More about Outlar's work can be found at 17Numa.com.
Holy Trinity
Please don’t feel sorry
for all the sad follies
of nature
of God
and of our
broken attempts at love
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
Casting Cards
I wouldn’t dare
call myself a poet
or an artist/or a warrior
or a fighter/or a servant/or a stoic
or a fool
I’m just a hermit and a vagabond
going within so I can wander
but these pines work well as bones
sturdy long enough to carry the hour
and all this dirt will eventually receive
the same returns of what once was offered
profit every whisper of groaning breath
pilfer specks of sand from six scratched eyes
protect the black of my lungs/
tongue with glazed amber
Harvest the autumn
red leaves sign caution
blood in the engine
ghosts crawling through dry veins
Spells cast the season
cold snap of reason
heavy pulse turn plasma
gears shifting beneath the plates
Give & Take
It’s interesting
how the black void
of absolute
nothingness and despair
that haunted your life
as a scared child
turned out to be
the same exact
space of consciousness
found in meditation
that saved your soul
as a 30-year-old man
Narrow
Life offers but two options
on its menu
You can lament
over what has been lost
in the past
for all your days
& remain
empty
(half full at best)
& forever starving
or you can forge your way
toward the future
& forage for a feast
that will fatten you
with peace & happiness
It’s all ice cream & oranges
& the fine line between