Modern multilane freeways
so much concrete
Lurking under assembly line vehicles
Tumbled barrel upon churning barrel
Gloopy gray butter
spread between the hills
Hardened into white rivers of stone
Our fathers worked concrete
when young
A dollar a day
and glad to get it
Wrestling the jitterbugging jump of the jackhammer
Pushing
pulling
spilling
piling
into place
Smoothing into permanence
at the end of the day
Present concrete efforts
appear unexceptional
Changing little
for the world to see
Yet the sight of that goop
in the barrow excites
Creates panic
before it's smoothed over
Paving the road to the future
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