When you trip (see also: fall flat on face)
it can take some time
to stand up, dust off, and once again see clearly.
Life is dirty like that.
I have flashed enough fake smiles
during the past month
to truly earn the one I’m wearing now.
Life is a joke like that.
I’m not looking for a fifth ace
to hide up my sleeve;
I’d rather carry just one and call it a cool hand.
Life is a gamble like that.
There is a song in every silent surrender
when the album stops spinning,
and there is a scream always shining from distant stars.
Life is a roar like that.
© Scott Thomas Outlar
About the poet: Scott Thomas Outlar hosts the site 17Numa.com where links to his published poetry, fiction, essays, interviews, reviews, live events, and books can be found. His work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. Scott was a recipient of the 2017 Setu Magazine Award for Excellence in the field of literature. His words have been translated into French, Italian, Dutch, Persian, Serbian, Albanian, and Afrikaans. He has been a weekly contributor at Dissident Voice for the past four years.