I look out over the harbor
at that statue you know the one
that worn-out, weathered statue of liberty
with nothing to say.  She just stands
there like a statue with nothing to say.
Nothing. Let’s face it, folks, 
she wasn’t even made in our country, 
this land I love and stand beside
— the great USA
that I’m gonna make great again.

France! That’s where she came from.
France!!! You heard me. That’s right.  
And whatever French guy made it
he couldn’t even make it look like
a Parisian model beautiful beautiful
really really built. So true.  So true.
Does she have legs? I’d like to see legs.
Any great American would like to see legs.
All we see is that ugly green face.
Wanna know what I say
about that eyesore with no legs?
I say deport her! You heard me.
What the hell is under
that wrap-around curtain anyway?  
a gun? a stash of drugs?
a bomb set a hundred years ago
to go off in 2016? to explode
when a boatload of tourists,
innocent hard-working Americans
great people amazing people
happens to be passing by?
And what’s with those spikes
on her head, dangerous spikes
if one of those tourists
is blown up that high
they could be impaled to death.
(and believe me, that happens
with those terrorist bombs).
I’ve seen pictures.

Think of it, folks, think of it.
To be very, very honest
I don’t know why that French guy
draped that blanket around her, do you?  
Maybe that was the fashion back then
but no more. So sad so sad.
She could be wearing a puffy white dress
like Melania’s or one of Ivanka’s
charming basic designs you can order on line.
But I’m understanding, I am. I understand
they wouldn’t work on someone
three hundred feet tall.
Without legs.  
And about that torch in her fat hand
Frankly who needs it?  We have electricity,
the greatest grids in the world.

Let me ask you: does this sickly green
eyesore serve you? Does it?                                        
And who comes to America by ship
any more?  No one sees it, folks.
No one.  They either fly or come by raft
or sneak across the border, but we’ll have
such a high wall to stop that. Such a wall.
We’re not welcoming anyone, 
so who needs that puke-colored
wrinkled bedspread to greet
those wretched invaders
to our shore.  Okay, okay some
who pass a test that shows they’ll
become successful citizens.
Great successful citizens like me.

Deport her.  Send her back.
Get her out of here.  Get her out!

Nancy Smiler Levinson is author of numerous books for young readers, now a closed chapter of her life. Recently, she is noted for her book, MOMENTS OF DAWN: A Poetic Memoir of Love & Family, Affliction & Affirmation, as well as poetry appearing in journals such as Poetica; Touch: The Journal of Healing; The Lost Country; and Blood and Thunder. A CNF published in an anthology, Getting Old, is a Pushcart Prize nominee this year.