AN ABSURDIST IMAGINING OF POST A-CROP-ALYPTIC NEAR FUTURE
The gods left this place some time ago,
Weary of our fractious fighting
All we have now is trade and agriculture
Food, a precious commodity
We turn to it's elusive magic for guidance
The Temple of the Tattie imagines one of this island's possible near futures: post Brexit, post a-crop-alypse.
Dutifully protected by Guardian, the temple's cordons open twice daily for you, the ever hopeful population, to cleanse your soles and show respect to the last known relic from an agriculturally diverse era, our last dear deity, the stalwart Tattie