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 purpose does this serve?
This stream you consciously let flow
What place does it have in the nature of this here uh thing
Ecosystem that’s the word
Anyway what purpose does it have?
Does it belong?
Does it even deserve a place?
What impact can it have upon these shores?
I for one prefer the old style the old tunes
The precise syllabic shit
Pardon my French
There’s a grandness that the ancient ones embody
Oh how they delivered upon the page
In such sweeping strokes
The nature of this ecosystem
Reflections of zeitgeists so pure
Now tell me what place do you have?
Do you deserve a pedestal?
A chair among the kinds and queens?
You sit at the children’s table
If there even is one!
What confers upon you the audacity
To demand graduation?
What makes a peasant a king
Since you don’t seem to have an answer
Is that what you want?
I – well I am at a loss for words
There’s a term for that you know.