My name is Podrigo Tumor and one of the things that poetry is is that it's concise.

It's quite tight.

There's a lot left out, there's a lot of empty space on the page.

And so as a result, a funny poem I think is often even funnier because it's not giving

a lot of extra detail.

It's just telling what you need to know.

On time I was in a bookshop and I picked down a poetry book and started to read a random

poem in it and burst out laughing in this very solemn bookshop.

But I didn't know what to do so I bought the book and left.

I still have the book and I love it.

How Prayer Works by Kavi Akbar

Took away in our tiny bedroom so near each other, the edge of my prayer rug covered the

edge of his, my brother and I prayed.

We were 18 and 11 maybe or 19 and 12.

He was back from college where he built his own computer and girls kissed him on the

mouth.

I was barely anything, just wanted to be left alone to read and watch the Simpsons.

We prayed together as we had done thousands of times, rushing ablutions over the sink,

laying our janumazis out toward the window, facing the Elm which once summer held an actual

crow's nest full of baby crows, fuzzy black-beaked fruit.

They were miracles we did not think to treasure.

My brother and I hurried through sloppy postures of praise, quiet as the light pooling around

...