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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