Overlapping Cataphaticals

Catachresis of Anagnorisis is a Crisis

There's a beauty in the buttresses

that soar so splendidly,

preventing stress fractures in

the ancient walls of the power

that tower above the Parisian sky.

Our lady has lived a long and colourful life,

greying with burning and with strife.

Now she suffers from dementia

and too many a tourist.

The spandrels of her graces still

wear gargoyles' cruel faces

and feed imagination's grist--

no perceptronium will settle these races.

The pteron and the cella run in parallel.

Why should the grey matter 

of the lady need protection? This shell

skull promises as well: 

Eternal hell.

At the small café with the nutella crêpes,

half-napping, eyes like grapes,

Sits a lapping alley-cat.

It wakes to nibble off 

a stranger's plate.

Look up, look even higher!

With languid lids and

curling coral yawn

the cat cares not a wit

about the cockerel's fate at dawn.