I met a shopper at the checkout stand
Who said: A vast and empty tower of glass
Stands in the city. Near it, on the sand,
Half ignored, a shattered sign that neon-shown,
With bright promise of an easy payment plan,
Tells that its founders well our passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on this lifeless thing,
The hand that signed the deed and the heart that fed.
And on the signage fine, it said –
“Subprime mortgages, apply right here!
Look upon our rates, fees and YSPs, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The foreclosures stretch, long and far away.
(With profound apologies to Percy Bysshe Shelley.)
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