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I see a mansard roof
Through the trees
I see a salty message
Written in the eaves
The ground beneath my feet
The hot garbage and concrete
And now the tops of buildings
I can see them too
The Argentines
Collapse in defeat
The admiralty surveys
The remnants of the fleet
The ground beneath their feet
Is a nautically-mapped sheet
As thin as paper
While it slips away from view
