Inmates on paradise
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"/Nothing beside remains./Round the decay/Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare/The lone and level sands stretch far away.” – From Ozymandius, by Percy Bysshe Shelly, 1792-1822, poet, dramatist, essayist, novelist, traveler, friend of Byron & Keats, perhaps homosexual.
Some 70 miles west of Key West, in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico, one encounters a “colossal wreck, boundless and bare.” However, it is not a massive monument to some long-forgotten king, although the structure is on a desert isle. Out in the blue one finds Fort Jefferson, which impossibly rises out of the water, built with some 16 million bricks, bleached more of a pink over the course of its 150-year-history.