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.
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.
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Saru Potturi is an Indian poet-writer who aims to question and challenge the nature of personhood, pothook, and reinvention-- and write some ear-pleasing rhymes in the process.
(Pomona College '24) |