Having grown up in the early days of “Mad” magazine, I enjoy satire, puns and word play in general.
I also have some nostalgic memories of Armory Square, when it was a rather gritty section of town. There was a the circus at the Armory; the billiard table company on Walton Street, with its large painted sign on the side of the brick building, as seen while riding a city bus; a long-ago job interview at one of the several meat wholesalers, also on Walton.
My poem is a tip of the cap to the square.
Armory Square is
well preserved, and a dozen
cars are traffic jam
