My head spins - the audacity of coming so close to the Gods! if that doesnt get our feet wet nothing will take my sandals wet feet, heads in clouds – beware the lightning! The wax in our ears will melt, all the notes fall down. The grime in our guts will be flushed. And we will rise, light, only to have the hawkish words eat those guts – again! O Prometheus, we know your plight. Too many nights oozing with ouzo how can we approach except with flames and offerings chanting sungift. Someone falls fasting gnawing gristle, talon gripped, bone in kris-beak the stone wall cracking, peeling And again that ouzo, promethean wax, a hand dedicating it to the fire, the too-close. consumed we wait an unhatched egg inside the Icarus pyre eyes malevolently our oily sycophancy, watching for the birth of wings and salamander immortality sing tongue soar feet cry want only ask fire up the band and swallow down the ash the gods are the gods and will do as they will not to mention who could tell if they don't let us cross over that pink and white pedestrian the imago of golden helen released from her eggshell, striped camellia crown, gown of pearled testicle, smile of eleusinian knowing
31.1: POST-EPIC
Released 1 December 2009 - 1 August 2010Index of Poems
Editor/ Producer: David Prater
Each of the poems in this issue starts with a line from a poem in EPIC. All lines are in fact comments that were added by readers. Scroll down each page to find out who wrote what! Or read the post-epic post-mortem.
with ten thousand comments we'll make it to Mars!
if that doesnt get our feet wet nothing will
take my sandals
wet feet, heads in clouds – beware the lightning!
The wax in our ears will melt, all the notes fall down.
The grime in our guts will be flushed. And we will rise, light,
only to have the hawkish words eat those guts – again!
O Prometheus, we know your plight.
Too many nights oozing with ouzo
how can we approach except with flames and offerings
chanting sungift. Someone falls fasting
gnawing gristle, talon gripped, bone in kris-beak
the stone wall cracking, peeling
And again that ouzo, promethean wax, a hand dedicating it to the fire, the too-close.
consumed we wait
an unhatched egg inside the Icarus pyre
eyes malevolently our oily sycophancy,
watching for the birth of wings and salamander immortality
sing tongue soar feet cry want only ask
fire up the band and swallow down the ash
the gods are the gods and will do as they will
not to mention who could tell if they don't
let us cross over that pink and white pedestrian
the imago of golden helen released from her eggshell,striped camellia crown,gown of pearled testicle,smile of eleusinian knowing