Cock-A-Doodle-Do I confess my sins not to the crosses you bear for I have a few of my own along with a fire to contend with Remember when Caligula anointed his horse as a Senator of Rome? Ever hear the spin about how history repeats itself? These modern creatures are of the same ilk - stone cold, batshit cray cray caw caw Judas goats gnaw on the tin cans of their own spiritual destitution Jiminy Cricket The most impactful question that anyone has ever posed to me was when my father asked: “Do you have a conscience?” after a substitute teacher in fifth grade ratted me out to the regular teacher by telling her that I tried to pull a prank on one of the other students while we played during a break period. Soon after that, I not only began to consider my actions from a much more morally sound position while tempering my behavior but also went into a paralyzed cocoon of guilt-ridden consciousness, believing, in a severe state of paranoia, that everyone around me was thinking that I was planning the most horrible things imaginable in every possible situation. Sucking Vapors Back when I was a boy riding around with my buddy as his dad drove us home from the baseball field, whenever we’d pass a cemetery he’d tell me to hold my breath or else the spirits of the dead would enter my body through the lungs. I’d play along and pretend as if I believed such dire warnings, occasionally having to really go the distance if we happened to get stopped at a streetlight situated directly beside a graveyard. These days I’m a bit more daring and open to the occult, so as I drove by a burial ground this morning I took a big huff of oxygen, inhaling as many ghost fumes as possible because I’m constantly in search of the next fresh dose of inspiration, regardless of where the energy might originate. It’s a bit odd though because ever since the séance I’ve had an intense craving for cornbread and black-eyed peas, as well as a strange urge to call Frank and tell him to turn the stove off. All I can think of now is: who the hell is Frank?
SCOTT THOMAS OUTLAR is originally from Atlanta, Georgia. He now lives and writes in Frederick, Maryland. His work has been nominated multiple times for both the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. He guest-edited the Hope Anthology of Poetry from CultureCult Press as well as the 2019-2023 Western Voices editions of Setu Mag. He is the author of seven books, including Songs of a Dissident (2015), Abstract Visions of Light (2018), Of Sand and Sugar (2019), and Evermore (2021 – written with co-author Mihaela Melnic). Selections of his poetry have been translated and published in 14 languages. He has been a weekly contributor at Dissident Voice for the past eight and a half years. More about Outlar’s work can be found at 17Numa.com.
Confessions 