I bought a square foot of land
by a Scottish lock.
From this day forth
I will be known as Lord David.
An imaginary aristocracy has its charms.
Not wishing to be seen as noveau rich
eighteenth century captains of industry
employed artisans to fake coats of arms.
My documentation is authentic.
I got Sam a square foot of land too,
so she can be a Lady.
I don’t mean to create a stir
but isn’t Sam more like a sir,
an ardent lover of lady fur?
I’ll annex nearby plots,
build a hamlet veiled in bonsai woods
and laugh at losers
who name stars after their sweethearts.
I’ve got doubts
about all you Lilliputian Caesar’s.
dismiss such dreams with tweezers.
You’re mocking Lord David?
You and whose toy soldiers are gonna stop me?