#26 Spring

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.

 

Rethink the pastures

There was violence in the spring

Amongst the daisies that were counting

Were splattered smatterings

 

Silence never gripped the grass

Like it did that very year

Swigs up by the rivers

You thought it was funny to call it queer

 

Nobody laughed

This reckoning was reckoning that you

And all the others spiralling

Would lemming it up in queue

No matter that they asked for tickets

Let down ready queasy

Parking by next season

While the next swig swung was sleazy

 

Plastered by the theatre

My swore could’ve done a flick

Movie stars are better off

Doing wide screen shit

 

No seconds for the duly damned

The truly crammed are crawling

No festering or pestering

When the satyrs came a-calling

By the jungle gyms they strayed

From lava spitting and erupting

Declared that teenagedom

Was nothing but corrupting

 

So rebel and smoke and choke and laugh

And swing like rabid future leaders

The feeders will keep their distance

Afore they’re condemned to be readers

 

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