How Much Is That God in the Window?

featured in the poetry forum December 21, 2016  :: 0 comments

I stared straight into the eyes
of Jesus Christ
through the side window
of a Mormon church
several years ago
during the early a.m. hours
on a cold, blustery, winter
morning in December
somewhere outside the suburbs
of Atlanta, GA.

Now maybe it was all due
to the cheap bottle of whiskey
I’d quickly consumed
to drown my liver
while absorbing the vitriolic wisdom
from a Doug Stanhope comedy special
before taking my drunken sojourn
through the city,
but I’m fairly sure
that J.C. sent
a synchronized smile
imbued with the Holy Spirit Vibration
back in my direction.

Years prior to that,
I met the Easter Bunny
at the bottom of a rabbit hole
I used to frequent
where I eventually wound up
losing much of my mind.
Well, hell,
come to think of it
that might help to explain
the earlier part of this story.

I still chase after Cupid
each new Valentine’s Day,
struggling to steal
one of those damn arrows
he refuses to shoot my way.
But that, of course,
is a tale for another time…

editors note:

It’s a merry mindf**k, all the way to grandma’s house (our your local religious institution). Jingle the bells in your belfries! – mh clay

Long Division

featured in the poetry forum April 2, 2016  :: 0 comments

Most people,
you’ll find,
can hardly handle,
if at all,
the shit
from their own childhood –

and you expect
the masses
to deal with
thousands of years
of ancestral DNA
swirling around
the synapses
of their sub consciousness?

Come on!…
I came here only to dance –

editors note:

Here we are; still rockin’ to the hits. – mh clay

The Tab

featured in the poetry forum December 30, 2015  :: 0 comments

Everyone pays in the end,
one way or another,
for better or for worse,
until death do us part.

Everyone gets stuck with a tab
they cannot afford
while at the bar, alone,
dead in their seat,
dead on their feet,
dead in the gutter,
sleeping in the street,
drowning in the puddles,
freezing in the cold,
shaking, starving, strung out
from fasting, dizzy,
delirious, down on their luck,
left for dead, walked over,
danced upon, forgotten
by the future that never came –
in the end, everyone will pay.

editors note:

As we enter a New Year, let’s review the bill so far; naked we come, naked we go… – mh clay

Sacrificial Communion

featured in the poetry forum October 18, 2015  :: 0 comments

I’m going to hunt you down –
I swear I’ll track you to the ends
of the earth.

I’m going to taste your flesh –
I swear I’ll eat you to the bone
and drink the blood.

You can’t escape me –
Three days in hiding are not enough
to put me off.

You’re going to be all mine –
Run to your cross and hang there high
but it won’t save.

editors note:

Abaddon invites Josh over for juice and crackers. – mh clay

Poisoned Dairy

featured in the poetry forum August 17, 2015  :: 0 comments

Twisted, tortured, turned over
into the free zone, freak out
on the theory, conspiratorial cartoon
hallucinations near the border
of reason and insanity

Draw the lines
and drink the poison
passion falls hard in the garden

Kiss your fangs
and get the blackout

Drain the prism
it’s a whitewash

Scarecrow fever in the haystack
search after needles for scabbed veins

Sucking daydreams
through a bent straw
spill the milk and cry all day

editors note:

Pity the poor border bumpers, ravished by their fascinations with the edge. Turn from them to fall into your own abyss. The edge is everywhere. – mh clay


featured in the poetry forum June 7, 2015  :: 0 comments

A nuke for a lover
strapped on tight
going deep
into spaces that mutate
around the smoky edges
of a mushroom head
that pushes and pushes
until it wins
every time

editors note:

Ah, capricious love! He went for fusion; got fission, instead. (We welcome Scott to our conspiratorial confab of Contributing Poets with this submission. Read more of his madness on his new page – check it out!) – mh clay

On the Prowl

featured in the poetry forum March 22, 2015  :: 0 comments

Having a poem published
at a new venue
is a lot like getting laid.
The process of submitting pieces
blindly to editors you don’t know
is like the hunt
when courting a new girl.
The acceptance letter received
stating your work will appear
a few weeks down the line
is like foreplay –
massaging, kissing, cuddling your date.
Then the poem is published
and it feels like blowing a load –
you’re spent, a little embarrassed, and
not really into it anymore.
Ten minutes tick off the clock
and you’re ready to conquer the world
all over again.

– Scott Thomas Outlar

editors note:

We must be poly-amorous panderers to priapic poets. – mh

Silly Rabbit

featured in the poetry forum January 30, 2015  :: 0 comments

It’s kind of a silly mess
the rabbit went deep in his hole
so I followed
with carrots in tow
to choke the illusion
and rape all conspiracy
with madness and justice for all

King Nothing is naked
an empire dethroned
run to your corners
all lies are exposed

editors note:

It’s a brisk run in the naked day when attired in illusion. Keep your corners clear! – mh clay