Theodor van Thulden, "The Works of Ulysses: 'The Greek sailors open the bag, given by Aeolus, containing adverse winds.'"
If we whisper “Ozymandias,” apotropaic magic to bring all haboobs to bear on our new monument makers, we do it knowing the wind’ll hear us. An inclined slant of a wall of mud and sand, an exhalation of a collapsing thunderstorm: the blowing grit scours paint right off a car, etches mirrors, mutes every gilded entryway; will strip the mall palms bare.
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