What we make of ourselves…

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A woman had come out from the big city,

Mannahattas, with its skyscrapers casting shadow,

Causing her perfect face, facile with makeup,

To go down to a harbor, to greet ships,

Walt Whitman, Oscar Wilde, has said this is so,

As if when the waters in petroleum spill,

Could be ascended or apprehended, as Madison Square Garden,

A meadow.

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