The ventriloquist gravedigger’s got mud on his breeches
With his fifty cent dummy he gives political speeches
For the million man army with two million eyes
Who can’t see a rotting corpse beneath brilliant blue skies
And the lonely Lady on her eponymous island cries
Mournfully watching as all she ever stood for dies
A lethargic naked cherub rouses herself to sing
The praises of the dummy she coddles beneath her wings
Making the ventriloquist gravedigger laugh gleefully
As the million man army stands and cheers dutifully
The cherub’s putrid paean has dimmed the Lady’s light -
The gravedigger’s aim, which brings him great delight
The chameleon dummy looks in two directions at once
Speaking out of both sides of his mouth he’s no dunce
Erasing written communications and denying that he did
Knowing the cherub will justify it - but she’s naked, not hid
Her foundation trembling, the Lady’s tablet tumbles
Frantically grasping for it, the good Lady stumbles
The army follows the dummy, like a good army should
And defends him from attacks when he’s up to no good
And will punch you in the nose and say you provoked it
Obediently reported by the cherub so the whole world knows it
Her foundation removed, the Lady seems to be shrinking
In the middle of an outcast harbor Bedloe’s Island is sinking
September 2016
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