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It is nothing like a shark but the monochrome blanched off-white
of its long body is dumb like a shark’s nose and dead eyes and
it is turning a corner.
We bring the harvest and lay it at an altar
of bread crust, pierced gold earrings, and the bones of our first born
Banana. . .
The hastily assembled angel watches
From the air he watches from that point in the air
Where years from now the apex of. . .
On Fitzgerald’s novel and eternal American myths.
Louis Vuitton’s clumsy attempt to make good.
On New York’s efforts to quantify and exploit the “eco” dollars out of every living cedar, oak, ash, and pine.