The night Emma Lazarus rose from the dead

One night Emma Lazarus rose from the dead
And swatted our President upside the head.
“Donnie,” she said, “did you look at my poem?
“Your own family were immigrants, surely you owe ’em.”

“You don’t know a thing Em,” the President noted
“We need some new enemies, voters have voted.”
“But you’re fomenting hatred — that’s a disgrace.”
“Em, I’m just trying to play to my base.”

“Are you trying to tell me you have no beliefs?”
“Yes I have one. Remember those First Nations chiefs
“That we lied to? Those treaties we handily broke?
“I believe in distractions. Now people are woke

“And soon they will notice that most of us here
“Are illegal immigrants, gripped by the fear
“That the truth will win out and we’ll all need to go
“As the Sioux and the Navajo watch us eat crow.

“Now I’m playing the role of buffoon most uncouth,
“To distract everyone from unfortunate truth.
“And so far it’s working, they’re singing my song,
“‘Cause people are losers, they just go along.”

“Mother of Exiles!” Emma replied,
“You knew all along, and yet you just lied.”
“How can you stand to create such despair?”
“It’s easy,” he said, “I am rich. I don’t care.”

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