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.
What’s up gasparado
All out of candles with that desperate aficionado
Tiling cars way late into the dark side of town
Heard you hijacked a match
Just to not feel down
Whaddup desperado
How’s the coattail riding?
Have you stood on the shoulders of any figure
Worth the clothes that line them?
The backbenchers
Always had the worst stench
But when they rose out of their chairs
You could tell there was a spirit about them
There were the kinds of starlight in their eyes
That made the likes of you
In your adorned threads
A little less wise
To the eye
And I know there wasn’t much to go on in the beginning
But they don’t care much for
The outer rims of preaching
Or the deep wellings of puddle bound
Stories that seem to constantly drench the soles
Of your shoes
So what have you left to lose?
Whats up masquerado
How goes the fishing?
I know you were gone
None of us ever thought you went missing
Some peter pan witch
You’d be begging digging through ditches
Till you carved an isthmus
Out of some wildernesss
Domesticated
Sedated like the elevated
That’s the type of medicated you enjoyed
We all saw the tooth marks
You tried to hide
No employing could’ve set you free
How’s it going now that you’re on to sally?
Whats up enterado
Caught in the pigsty with a fly girl
Kicked about by her father
Now you’re detailing your bruises
And it sure stings
Trying to breathe through your ear ringing things
But your overalls need a proper wash
But you haven’t seen the laundry since you were fourteen