The New New Colossus
Imagining the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With guarding limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our barricaded, floodlit gates shall stand
A fat-joweled man with a pistol, whose muzzle
Threatens deadly lightning, and his name is
Bringer of Carnage. His shrunken hand shakes
With fear and spite; his beady eyes command
The gray, dull harbor where twin towers stood.
“Keep, foreign lands, your bad dudes!” cries he
With thin, spitting lips. “Give me your white, your rich,
Your chosen few, to make America great again!
The well-fed visitors from your Christian shore.
Send these! The campaign donors, the Black Card holders, to me;
I stop the rest outside the steel door!”