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.


She grows fires

Tends to the flames

I’ve seen her walk them on a leash

At six a.m. and then again in the evenings

They look really happy

And I’m sure they’re well fed

Some days I don’t see the sun

Glad I still get to see them

Leave a Reply