The yard work of you.

It is the fuck all commitment
to an advanced degree in the mundane.

It is the precise repetition
of a border patrol controlled border.

It is being lost lost.

But holding on
to the very edges.

Of an unmapped center.

Quelling all micro invasions.
Trimming all lumps that offend.

Drawing your goddamn line in this thing.

Because a line drawn anywhere
is as good
as a line drawn anywhere.