ISSN 1551-8086
return to home search for a contributing writer

seach for poems by title

archive of previous issues submissions information mailing list online store links to other interesting sites contact us  
  November 2017
volume 14 number 2
-table of contents-
  home   (archived)
  contributing poets
  Gary Beck
  Jack G. Bowman
  Sir Mark Bruback
  JR Campbell
  Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
  Darren C Demaree
  Amitabh Vikram Dwivedi
  Raymond Fenech
  Gerda Govine Ituarte
  Grant Guy
  Hedy Habra
  Danielle Harper
  JD Hart
  Tom Irish
  Kait Jensen
  Michael Lee Johnson
  Elisabeth Khan
  Ron Lucas
  Suzanne O'Connell
  Scott Thomas Outlar
  E. Martin Pedersen
  John D Robinson
  Miriam Sagan
  Rishan Singh
  Spencer Smith
  Ann Christine Tabaka
  Viola Weinberg
  Cade Williams
  Terry Wolverton
  Bill Yarrow
  mailing list
Scott Thomas Outlar
November 2017



photo by françois biajoux

    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. Selections of his poetry have been translated into Afrikaans, Albanian, Dutch, French, Italian, Persian, and Serbian. Outlar hosts the site where links to his published poetry, fiction, essays, interviews, reviews, live events, radio podcasts, and books can be found. His most recent book, Abstract Visions of Light, was released in 2018 through Alien Buddha Press.
17 Numa



Sqmewhere in the Space Between

33 is the branding blindness
laced across your closing eyes
when the truth becomes
too hot to touch.
Don’t you dare worry
about being saved
because karma will still
burn us all in the end.

Every breath inhaled
was a righteous hallelujah
but that doesn’t mean
the prayer could reach holy center.

Every word wept or laughed
was an allusion screaming heaven;
searching through the night
with a tongue that aches for God.

99 is the jump point of grace
dancing across a broken bridge
where shadows fail
to snuff the dawning light.
Lay down your sword
and take off your mask
as all of the sixes
are buried below us.

Every wound suffered
was a test from evolution
like sewing up flesh
when the blood tastes of sin.

Every touch of skin
was electric in the moment;
singing toward the sun
to entrust your letters with the light.

copyright 2017 Scott Thomas Outlar