the regional materialist by Rob Budde

can’t be there and here
is a bias of communication, a trick
of the wind patterns or
myths that have forgotten what they are

they asked me for ID
and i said your poems
desecrate graves with
their assurance

i see cutting the lawn as
a way to let only imported
grasses survive except
at the edges

i am a type of trying to
do too much but what’s
the difference between status
quo work and the police state
poetics of look at me

it is a commitment to not
and the writing lines bend
to hold that evasion:
look, there it goes