I should have gone to the airport to join the protests against the thief executive’s outrageous, hypocritical, and un-American let’s be honest and call it a Muslim ban, but I was oddly moved to look up the Statue of Liberty’s legendary lines and write a poem instead. With apologies to Emma Lazarus and the sonnet form,
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame
Whose conquering stride spanned wide from shore to shore,
Still less like our America’s dear dame —
The woman with the torch, who by the door
To freedom spoke inspiring words now moot.
She weeps in silence, while an empty suit
(Unbuttoned sport coat, anyway — such girth!)
Occupied by a preening, strutting boor
Stands like a toxic blight upon the Earth
And cravenly cries, “Keep your tired and poor!
The innocents and children fleeing war
Will get no welcome here. Let men say, ‘Shame!’
But huddled masses now will find a dearth
Of pity where democracy saw birth.”