the period of doubt was his favourite. Now we seem gathered in a line or was he hooked at the end of one? The comma of faith followed by a lazy ten Hail Marys And silence at the gate where all silences meet and stare at iron filings withering through lack of strong direction provided doubt that sits upon us all from time to time hungry for comfort food and generic love prompting our best foxhole faith forswearing this forswearing that just please dear God- a point of fact overlooked in the annals of Limbo. in the annals of our point of departure. prompting our best foxhole faith. In limbo gated The shore illuminated Tear washed he rocked her pointedly no doubt virginal misconception still trickster thieves eating bibles with Champagne if there are no faithless in foxholes then the gods want war but doubt eats even the gods 74EzBOQyu/e1P96x/kJmfGMz5xfCQFbzkd2M5jQbmcFFnu8ScEJjiDRCKFd 0ce4JSG+Rkiy1GRSRFDZki1TRJKN+bJbRyLmON+ZzjrWcZ/vmxA2zzmw kRMM50tr+sz1jTOCKUzgBYN60yaBKkV8qsPwdUxcDuIIqawEYst0aCLiRE gfLWjVQ606a2c51PTWpYZzrPzEbIqAGc6mjDms5mZjWM9eyWa3DAAODii their pointless rantings unpunctuated indecipherable no rosetta stone tablet mined to undermine the doubt lying stone cold and foxholed where feeling ran highest. As dawn's wrath emerged epitaths screamed their passing gods forsaking doubt. this is relativism this is adaptation. this is a schedule of tides this period. scarcely, this period. in the psychopomp
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.
was his favourite.
Now we seem gathered in a line
or was he hooked at the end of one?
The comma of faith
followed by a lazy ten Hail Marys
And silence at the gate
where all silences meet and stare at iron
filings withering
through lack of strong direction provided
doubt that sits upon us all from time to time
hungry for comfort food and generic love
prompting our best foxhole faith
forswearing this forswearing that just please dear God- a point of fact
overlooked in the annals of Limbo.
in the annals of our point of departure. prompting our best foxhole faith.
In limbo gated
The shore illuminated
Tear washed he rocked her
pointedly no doubt
virginal misconception
still trickster thieves
eating bibles with Champagne
if there are no faithless in foxholes then the gods want war
but doubt eats even the gods
74EzBOQyu/e1P96x/kJmfGMz5xfCQFbzkd2M5jQbmcFFnu8ScEJjiDRCKFdV
0ce4JSG+Rkiy1GRSRFDZki1TRJKN+bJbRyLmON+ZzjrWcZ/vmxA2zzmwkEVC
kRMM50tr+sz1jTOCKUzgBYN60yaBKkV8qsPwdUxcDuIIqawEYst0aCLiREmw
gfLWjVQ606a2c51PTWpYZzrPzEbIqAGc6mjDms5mZjWM9eyWa3DAAODiirka
their pointless rantings unpunctuated indecipherable
no rosetta stone tablet mined to undermine
the doubt lying stone cold and foxholed
where feeling ran highest.
As dawn's wrath emerged
epitaths screamed their passing
gods forsaking doubt.
this is relativism
this is adaptation. this is a schedule of tides
this period. scarcely, this period. in the psychopomp