Kerosene Creases
by Scott Thomas Outlar / February 10th, 2019
Skeleton sky
full of ribs and keys
pulling apart
There are fires gathering
in the folds of your flag
A little birdie
stole my secrets
with its tongue
bleeding steadily
along the electric wire
Too many watchmen
babbling the wrong warning
atop a tower of idols
Muddled messages
stare back blankly
from the reflection
of muddied waters
Better tend to your shadows
the only herald that can save us
Scott Thomas Outlar is a lover of truth and enjoys researching
philosophy, psychology, politics, spirituality, and any other facet of
consciousness in the pursuit of reaching a higher state of vibration.
He also enjoys writing rants, poems, essays, short stories, and
prose-fusion screeds covering such subjects.
Scott Thomas can be reached at
17numa@gmail.com. You can also watch and/or subscribe to his
YouTube Channel.
Read other articles by Scott Thomas, or
visit Scott Thomas's website.
This article was posted on Sunday, February 10th, 2019 at 8:03am and is filed under Poetry.