As Is What Was is a collection of poems created with no thought at all. None. There is no control over grammar, sound, rhythm, idea, or anything really. Why? I thought it would be fun. Is it insane? Absolutely.

 

They had you painted and you were not even rightly aware

Sat on your stoop all bright with full hair

You auburn on brick

You chalking the pavement

The frightful fancy grazes on eyes tiny like daisies

Matter of fact, they jostled for you

You with the skin

Blue

And their work was no good

Their word was no good!

That can be argued by the innocent truth

Ah! The blue too! Obviously the blue too

 

Or was it purple? Fuck it, who knew?

Crippled untouched unhurried you do

Chalk that pavement with blue

And when the wind rakes upon the accent

Priding in its gardening

Don’t tell them that the fancies were frightening

For they won’t listen

That can be promised well enough

Nothing sticks like sticks

Sure the bruises enough

Oh take that smirk away and put it in a box

Lock it the attic

Seen it has been rough

And weathered and weary and boy who knows what else

Best believe best believe

Leafs on the shelf and else

Else?

What else?

No one’s quite sure where the light is

Where else?