Toasting the gods. A Poem by Scott Thomas Outlar

Little Man-child
trying to play with the Big Boys
pretending to be gods
up on Olympus
Careful with the hubris
lest ye fall like Atlantis
with Eve and all her serpents
Take a rib and suck it
down to the marrow
trying to find a First Cause
in the belly of the feast
It’s the passion of the Beast
welcome to carnage city
bringing the chaos nightly
Come dance with Bacchus
who wears the grapevines
on his head as a halo
glowing with the spilt blood
captured in the glass that ever flows

Scott Thomas Outlar lives a simple life in the suburbs, spending the days flowing and fluxing with the tide of the Tao River, marveling at the intricacies of life’s existential nature, and writing prose-fusion poetry dedicated to the Phoenix Generation. His words have appeared recently in venues such as Siren, Section 8, Midnight Lane Boutique, Dead Snakes, Mad Swirl, and Dissident Voice. His debut chapbook “A Black Wave Cometh” is forthcoming from Dink Press. More of Scott’s writing can be found at
Poetry Life & Times

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