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.
Caffeine – not hit
The old poets only sing to dead waters
While the new ones rack up gold for the brothels
There was not a care left for the fabric of wisdom or words
Or sounds or frantic ecstatic frays
But that is not the cash cow these days
In fact, the cash cow is everythingng but the cow
And you can have all but the beef
Unless you’d prefer to be deemed a terrorist
Then have the infamy your way
They’ll grate on for ages
And brand their ambassadorial talents
With the weights of shit so high
You could build a magnificent fortress
And call it a world wonder
Yeah. That’s how things are these days
If you want to know what real waste is
You’ll have to stalk a writer hafter midnight
Let them slip and slide down the alleyways
Till they’ve got blisters from their tongues to their feet
No laughter pounces off the wall anymore
And no filth is adorned with shiny trinkets
The rebellious revellers are prancing like demons
And that’s all too well for them
They’ll just pay the entry fee and get on with it
And you said you’d like to famous?
Get the fuck out of here.
You don’t know what the underground is
Till you’ve left it behind
Virtues have no place here
Wipe your feet on the doormat
2 thoughts on “#32 Stalk a Writer After Midnight”
A sign of the times! Thought provoking !
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On Sun, 26 Apr 2020 at 12:00 AM, Owl in a Coffee Cup wrote:
> Arnav Sibal posted: ” 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. Caffeine – not hit The old po” >