RICHARD K. JORDAN
Dreaming of Liberty

When I was a small child,
I was afraid of Lady Liberty.
In every photograph I had ever seen,
She had seemed to scowl with disapproval,
As if she had just caught me
In the act of sneaking broccoli
To the dog under the dinner table.
But then one Saturday morning,
I was watching cartoons, and learning
All about grammar, when Ms. Liberty
Appeared on Schoolhouse Rock, smiling
And demonstrating to the viewing audience
That "smile" is sometimes an action verb. 
And since then, we've had a harmonious relationship,
Lady Liberty and I,
 
Except for last night, when I had this dream
That I was visiting Liberty in person
For the first time.  There was no one else in sight,
And Liberty towered over me, motionless,
Stone-faced, and seemingly unaware
Of my existence.  Negligence and curiosity
Finally got the best of me,
So I snuck a quick peek under her skirt,
And what I discovered was alarming.
For, standing there before me was the world's largest
And, just possibly, most esteemed Hermaphrodite.
I struggled long and hard to make sense
Of the situation, until it dawned on me, in a flash
Of brilliant analysis, the way it usually does in dreams,
That the forces of evil had conspired and pulled
Yet another fast one on us all.
 
Then, since all that deductive reasoning
Had brought about an unbearable
Hunger, I wandered a few blocks
To an authentic New York Deli,
The kind you see in Hollywood movies,
Except for the fact that the man
Behind the counter looked foreign,
With a long, scraggily black beard and white turban.
But, much to my surprise, he was friendly,
And apparently sensing my trepidation,
Offered comfort in polished English,
Along with a tasty Pastrami on Rye,
Free of charge.
 
As fate would have it, just as my subconscious
Was coming to grips with obstinate ignorance
I was startled awake by a low-flying F-14.
More out of habit, than sense of duty,
I reached for the remote control, and flipped
On CNN Headline News, only
It was too early in the morning
To decipher scrolling captions,
So I tuned to the Cartoon Network,
And quickly drifted off to sleep.
 
Before I knew it, I found myself
Back at the Statue of Liberty,
But this time as a giddy six-year old,
Perched high atop my father's shoulders.
And, while Father stood in pious silence,
Sporting Sunday best and beaming proudly,
Admiring Liberty in all her glory,
The six-year old me giggled knowingly,
And tossed Scooby Snacks
To the hungry seagulls.