Sanctuary (On Revolution

Sanctuary (On Revolution)

SARU POTTURI

Spurn me, and I will spur thee; Smirch me, besmirch me, unchurch me Splurge free on surgery—I urge thee! A scourge I be, like ship scurvy; Hark thee, clergy! See you your turgid liturgies Upon them ramshackle gurneys? Hark thee, clergy! Burn your crosses and flee! Let thy feet carry thee out with utmost urgency! I’ll purge the seas, the gurge and the lees And vultures will perch upon birch trees And insurgents will surge in upon dark steeds And urchins will merchant your gold capped knees And purchase dead spurges for your winding sheets The sky is blue And the pyre’s long due. And if you can find me a place of sanctuary Then I promise to leave no ash in my wake As I torch my way out of this black-rose grave.