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 breaks with the idea
the cold dust won’t let up
the miners can only await the canary
it’s a skill to brave face in the bed of the world
expense is what makes it go round
that’s the material in the mattress
You hope in the tunnels that they’ll build a better world for you up there
So you won’t have to watch your oesophagus crumble away
But they couldn’t be bothered
The miner has become the mined
Isn’t evolution a sickly thing?