I am the schooner of the dunes,
a looming bow of treasure.
Beneath suns’ spice and silky moons,
I sail in pearls and pleasure.
The incensed princes of the East
recline upon my leather;
for eyes, an oriental feast
of tassels, bells and feather.
And when time comes to sleep and dream
I kneel on carpets, nesting.
The comet’s tail and planet’s gleam
concelebrate my resting.
So go ahead, make fun of me
in moral illustrations,
my hairy flanks and knobby knees,
my humpback undulations.
With metaphoric kick and push,
with metaphoric wheedle,
go on and try to shove my tush
through tiny eye of needle.
For I am blessed with regal sense.
My self-esteem is healthy.
Your jokes are not at my expense—
the joke is on the wealthy.