Present Tense

The metal click
of wind meets flame
along Carrol Creek

engineered by brightened minds
to light up the night

I could stare at the sun
forever
if it only stayed
in its setting motion

Strange lands
seem even more bizarre
as I age

and I feel less sure
about any of my opinions
or judgments

and critiques are dead ash
weaving rotten fibers

I could bathe in the water eternally
if I returned to my froggy nature

breathing
basking
believing

as the days of ‘23
grow fewer
on the page

there will be a new post
around the bend

I have cocooned inward
not by design
but instinctual necessity

incommunicado
silent lines
vapors and mist
fill my neurons

Learning to surrender
and just be

The quantum mechanics
zapped my innards
sucked the vacuum
toiled and twisted

I am the tourniquet
fashioned of tolling bells
and sagging jacket bark

a tongue loosened
but timid

smeared with honey and roses
a thorn in each bud

habanero and sizzling ghosts
in every bite

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.