The smallness of the lake and fishermen
Give no pause to a camp owner pulling
A water skier, tossing wakes everywhere,
Certainty born in property taxes,
Transients like the rest of us counting
For nothing, legally or ethically.
Being the friendly sort I shot him the finger
Which he answered with a clueless grin
And insipid clown-wave, certain no doubt
We envy his exalted life station.