Poem: The Ostensible Behemoth
Background
I had some friends over last week and we enjoyed drinks and nibbles on the rooftop of my building with a view of the National Mall. We were reflecting on how DC tends to attract some of the worst of humanity. I saw the Washington Monument blinking in the night and it seemed to me a beacon like that of the Statue of Liberty…but with magnetic qualities of the worst kind.
I made a quick adaptation of the famous phrase “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses…” although of course I got some of the details wrong on the spot. But I was inspired to attempt adapting the correct version, so the next day I did a quick search.
I came to discover (thanks Wikipedia) that this line is actually part of a sonnet written by Emma Lazarus. After a quick sojourn down a Wikipedia rabbit hole, I decided to try my hand at adapting the entire sonnet and did so over the course of the next couple of days.
Below is both the original and my adaptation.
Original
“The New Colossus” by Emma Lazarus
Penned in 1883 to raise money for the construction of a pedestal for the Statue of Liberty
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
DC satire
“The Ostensible Behemoth” by Ryan P. O’Connell
Typed in 2020 and dedicated to my friend Kerry whose conversation in particular inspired the concept
Unlike patina’d lady lifting flame
With arm aloft and tablet clutched in hand,
Here in our swamp-bogged, muggy pit does stand
A wicked man touting might, wealth, and fame
To all who gather and pronounce his name:
Father of Would-Be Rulers. His demand
Sings like Sirens’ song; his grave eyes command
Arriving aspirants whose souls they claim.
“Keep, worthy lands, your noble ones!” sneers he
With curled lips. “Give me your tyrant, your whore;
To enslave masses thinking they are free.
Come, wretched refuse from mount, plain, and shore,
Send these, the scumbag, power-craved to me,
I feign lend my crown to these virtue-poor!”
Commentary
Lazarus’ sonnet starts by describing the Colossus of Rhodes and then contrasts the Statue of Liberty. I start with the Statue of Liberty and then contrast this new giant which in my mind is basically the Washington Monument with arms and another blinking red light at night not only to warn planes but also act as glaring eyes. I would refer to this monument as the “Statute of Livery” because DC is all about laws and forcing everyone to wear the uniform (i.e., conform). It’s a stretch, but it’s the best wordplay I had.
Ironically, my progress through the Harvard Classics Reading Guide had me reading about Odysseus’ encounter with the Sirens the same days I was writing this poem.
The use of the word “whore” is not simply a reference to the thriving escort industry in town but also how much politicians are swayed by lobbyists. If we define a whore as someone who performs certain acts for money, then it’s not too much of a stretch for those who enact laws after getting all sorts of perks.