Don’t ask my view of humankind, of God.
We’re eddies in the ocean mind of God.
I grin from yearbook pages, bright as pins
and primed to prick the fat behind of God.
O Holy Father, how can I revere you?
You suck the pulp and spit the rind of God.
Spices, rhinos, coffee-coloured bodies:
all dust beneath the awful grind of God.
I won!
Then she jujitsu-spun my head
and locked me in the double-bind of God.
It breaks my brickwork, howls through my walls,
the incoherent undefined of God.
Who scaled the spire of the abandoned church,
spray-painted All Is God, and signed off
—God?