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.
There’s a brilliance
It cannot be sanitised
Or sanctified – it simply is
Like itty bitty wham-dumb
The dial tone sings that it’s seven past three
They never meant for locks to match any keys
The apple orchard sinks in its sweet teeth
They can’t eat but they’ll chew on the fat
Nicotine and nobody will weep more than their fair share
The bitters in the glass’ll take care of it
All bastards lay deep in graves they cannot keep
So maybe they’ll be destined
For martyrdom and play keeps
And if the lantern doth drip away and burn a village down
Eyes shall turn like the paws shall prowl
Mastery-tapestry they’ll wave it as a flag
Clasp you round your throat till
You feel pride and you bgrag
Savagery is only for the refined to be honest
And as you do as you will
You can lay waste to the forest
Butcher witted-shitted words till they think that you’re a king
And praise you in the taverns
You desire maidens will come and sing
And bring itty bitty whatever ‘cause you’re a crass little gem
Who thinks you got the right lining
But you’re tearing syllabic metrics at the hem