#47 Corduroys

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.


The old days are done

They died on the run

Somewhere between sanity and shit stains

I ditched the dirty clothes

When I survived the membranes

And then the drains came on

Washed with song


Imma about all right restless

Sunset dress-less

Corduroys shorts and a parking fine

Met list

Catch a crier in the obituary

These graves are for the wakers

Can’t settle on false hopes

And cavear and rib eyes

and wildflowers

And the buyers club went bust

So here we are


The city skyline scrapes your eyes

Penetrates your nightmares

As you sit in disguise

Think you’re the superhero

Cape and good all

When actually you’re villainous

In a frightful fall

See them pretty lights whizz by

You’re light in the head

Fuck I’ll be peaceful

When I crack open my head


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