Site icon Arnav Sibal

#107 Undergrowth

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.

Brave the weather
Before seeking to relay it
These ambitions turn soft
The garrisons of your form
In denial of the fronts
Cold gusts make beds for easy living creatures
Shivers are unkind greetings to these environments
Take it in with a pinch of salt
Clean the basements out every fortnight
Dwell and deliver
Light yonder partaking seriously
Cracked pavements are uneasy for introverts
Point the scoreboard in the other direction
Alternative inhibitions don hellish cloaks
In search of lost fortunes
The finches flutter unrest
Through the lullabies of the undergrowth

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