squared market concrete-loving marches

broken form inlays dominate the arena crowd
like salads at the ends times marches curated
by fans of missteps and flagrant boyhood

they did not know they could have stopped the show
the sound, the row row row, the garden throw
like a sparked cascade into a written lost journal
they have impacted phone booths from being seen
they have given concrete a reason to be, but change?

now along the darling grass white fleeting growths
on our spines and our leggings with the appraisals
of obsolete currency chipped away on squared markets

go back to your treasured backyard pools, your evening
commiseration with the neighbor and their farthling dog
like planets in the sunshine, your are best kept in stations,
documented as absent in the important moments, nodding
your heads like grill canister cakes and consequential BBQ

the foundation of the centered path
is the last line for laughs