Given recent events, I’ve decided the poem at the Statue of Liberty needed an update
Like the yuge orange guy of Apprentice fame,
With tiny hands grabbing from bleep to bleep;
Here at our (giant wall coming soon) shall stand
A vetting process, whose clipboard
Is the imprisoned red tape , and his name
The Donald. From his tiny-hand
Glows you’re not welcome; his crazy eyes command
The (giant wall coming soon) that twin cities frame.
“Keep, off our land , you rapey Mexicans ” cries he
With pursed lips. “Give me your English speaking, your rich,
Your entrepreneurs yearning to make more money,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Keep these, the homeless, the brown people away from me,
I’ll build my wall with a golden door!”