A Perfusion of Urn

Raise high finger 
wave, make waves 
let my pie fly
consecrate the sky.

Where plusses 
rift deuces, 
battle mortal cruces
crave for truces.

Buffer and squeeze 
the holy breeze
beating the bounds.

A rise of flies 
troubled tangled
undisguised

reek of
pathways to love. 

Where beauty brings
uneasy things

absurdity 
its constant companion 

something never immune 
from its wandering 
in the ruins 

yearning overturning 
cart for coal, 
my Grecian windflower

in a perfusion of urn,
mothers of invention,
the eternal return.

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