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.

 

They were singing sweet caroline in the trenches

Where there were all sorts of sprays

None of them good

Their fatigue was on the line

If only laziness could protect

The faithful asked for the best

But never sought it

 

Yes, war appears to repeat itself a little too much here

Not quite sure why

Although there must be some deeply embedded reasoning

Maybe it is the pinnacle of all emotional existence

The ultimate form of all innate human tendencies

Exhausted to the point of exhaustion

Fun to the point of insanity

True to the point of nature