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

You’re piecemeal

The miner has become the mined

Isn’t evolution a sickly thing?