#45 Citadels

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.


Noir fantasies

Always shaded

Graded by the number of streaks in your hair

Always absent of a new flair

Of a new soothsayer to say to

soothe you through

these stately affairs

But they’re all adamant about the understandable lengths of time

So they run in circles with no cloud lines

But the street lights always play with the freckles on your face

While you sit in a puddle of your own disgrace

And there shall be a simpleton too

A new reggae tune

And if you’re on an island far far away

The pandemic can’t reach you since

You are up away

Great glory goals of the third kind

The gold only looks shinier when it’s on the other side

So settle your debtors’ hearts

There are no restarts

And probably outcomes and notable shotguns

Weddings on the upper balconies

Of the new citadels

All can be saved

All can tell

And here they are rocking

On their skateboards

By the riverside park

Think they all can sit after dark

Drop a bar of soap

Maybe run away

Lose another steamy punk attitude

In your dilly dally ways

And your atomic haze

Play where it rains

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