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.
No part of this is mindful
Save the solitary hum
Within the throes of unsettled breeze
The newlywed – the uninitiated
None manage to best the strength so long ago established
Games are but fun
Until the bell and the ropes are in place
The taste of iron is not something easily forgettable
Which atom must be shook into nervousnesss?
It takes all matter of gall to assume
This is the final form
This is the pinnacle
Suppose it could be then it only goes to be
This precludes your selection
2 thoughts on “#76 The Absurdity of Growth”