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?