your skull is soft like meadow like song like mother's calves before she had you like my neighbour who never looks out of window like goosebumps on sunbeam like birdsong in skeet ground like shoulder sorrow like planet stew like bedroom in riot city like fluorescent dog like the trail of slime elephant drags like jealousy kennel like hierophant marriage, buttonlust, cloudfire, foxshoe, like loverat. 

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my home trembles and your daughter calls me crying. your rigor mortis has worn out. bravo! you are liquid silver once again. i crush up dried peonies and the poems your dad made you write about being happy and feed them to every dead parrot you've ever had. your cheek cracks and i smell the cardamom and snuff that was stuffed into you the year this city rose up from my womb. 

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love god. taste belief. eat mud. love god. make love. make belief. make god. make buildings in god’s name. forget to build the stairs up to heaven. let god step on our tongues matted together in a long line to reach the soccer ground where i’m the referee. 

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i regret ever knowing a prose poem, it makes incisions all over my body and burns my bones alone.